


Fics for Pics

by chanooa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanooa/pseuds/chanooa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another collection of dirty, smutty oneshots from DJDarkPixie's prompts. Kind of a sequel to Id Impulses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sterek

Stiles smirked to himself as he looked at the glint of dog-like eyes reflecting from his computer monitor. Taking a quick assessment of his outfit, he was glad that he hadn't bothered to change his underwear. He was wearing a black jockstrap that his boyfriend had yet to see, and his lacrosse hoodie. Stiles saw the shiny eyes flicker down to the chair he was sitting on, knowing that the man behind him was just noticing the black straps he was wearing. His smirk widened into a smile as he unzipped his hoodie, casually removing his t-shirt underneath and pulling it out of the armhole.

He watched as the figure behind him slid off of the windowsill, totally silent but unknowingly visible to his prey. He adjusted himself, and Stiles noticed that there was a lump in his pants, pushing against his zipper. The man silently drew nearer and nearer to Stiles, closing the distance between them.

"You know, if your pants are getting in the way, you can just take them off," Stiles said coolly.

Derek froze. Spinning away from his keyboard, Stiles looked at the man with a smug grin, fighting the urge to laugh. Derek's face clearly indicated that he'd never been caught before; at least, by a human. Putting his hands behind his head and leaning back, Stiles grinned. He spread his legs invitingly, giving the man a better view of the area where his eyes were glued. The boy's cock was hard, the head and first few inches poking out of the leg hole of his underwear. With his supernaturally enhanced vision and smelling, he could practically taste the little drip of precum rolling from the tip of Stiles' cock.

"H-How did you know I was here?" Derek asked, reluctantly ripping his eyes from the cock pointing down the boy's thigh.

"Your reflection," Stiles said, adjusting himself playfully so that his cock was sticking out more. "On the monitor?"

"Damn," Derek said, smiling with chagrin. "I'll have to remember that next time."

"Next time?" Stiles asked, standing and smiling salaciously. "Next time you sneak into my house?"

"Of course," Derek said, regaining his composure with a charming smile.

He lost this composure once again when Stiles quickly closed the space between their bodies, quickly reaching into the man's pants and grabbing his hard on. With a smile, he led the man by his organ over to his bed. "Looks like I caught the wolf this time," Stiles commented.

Removing his hands, the smaller boy pushed the stunned man down onto the bed. Derek was still somewhat shocked and aroused by Stiles' new take-charge attitude. He decided to settle back and watch his boy work. Stiles started by unbuttoning and unzipping the man's jeans with his teeth, expertly working the fly open. He then went on to pull off the jeans with both hands, ripping them off in a flash of movement. Derek was surprised at how fast lust had made his human lover move with near-werewolf speed.

Both men were still for a moment. Derek had completely forgotten which underwear he'd chosen to put on that day. Stiles was giving them a confused appraisal. They were clearly much too small for Derek, squeezing his hips and thighs. They were briefs; blue with red piping and a Superman logo on the crotch. The logo was barely recognizable due to the hard cock pressing against it so strenuously that the material looked like it was going to rip. There was a wet spot just above the S, and Stiles could make out the top of the man's ass, since the waist rose low on his hips. So low, in fact that they exposed half of his ass and a good part of his untrimmed pubes.

"Are...those mine?" Stiles asked, his face contorted in disbelief and confusion. "What the fuck?"

Getting close to the man, Stiles leaned over to look him in the face. "Wait a minute... I wore those yesterday," Stiles said, his breath warm on the man's rapidly reddening face. "Did you take those from my laundry?"

Derek turned his face away from the boy's, his blush turning to a deeper shade of red. Stiles lifted the man's shirt to his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers. "If you don't tell me, I'll have to torture an answer out of you," Stiles said with an excitingly forceful tone.

Derek looked back up at the boy, his eyes wide for a moment before settling into a sexy smirk. "I'll never tell," he said with an excited smile, his eyes mischievous with a playful glint in them.

Taking Derek's shirt off, Stiles pinched his nipple harder. He then moved his other hand onto the big, pale pectoral, pinching his other exposed nipple. He continued to squeeze harder until Derek let out a little whimper. Taking his fingers off, Stiles backed off, ducking down below the bed. Derek continued to lay, looking down his hard body to see Stiles' exposed ass bobbing just into sight.

Stiles straightened up, looking down at his captive. He looked very different from the usual Derek that Stiles was used to seeing. He was laying on his back, his hard, pale body totally naked except for a tight pair of nerdy briefs barely managing to cover up his big erection. His back was arched slightly from the tight garment, and his arms and legs were splayed where they'd landed when he was pushed, putting him in a very vulnerable-looking position. This was the perfect opportunity for Stiles to introduce his new toy. With a smile, he held up two pairs of handcuffs he'd stolen from his dad, a smile playing at his lips as he raised his eyebrows.

"Let's get serious about this," he said, opening the cuffs. He quickly handcuffed the man to the bed, though not how Derek was expecting. One of his wrists was chained to the post at the head of the bed, but his other was chained to the post at the foot of the bed, forcing him to sit on the floor with his hands splayed high to either side. His armpit hair was exposed as his biceps were forced to flex, hard pecs bulging up and down as he breathed. Sitting in a reclined position, his legs were open and his underwear-covered hard on pressing against his hard abs.

Stiles stood, leering over the man for a moment in order to revel in his catch. Derek looked up at him, submissive and at the boy's mercy. Stiles smiled down at the doe-eyed face looking up at him, pacing back and forth. He stopped for a moment to fondle the man's cock with his foot, nudging the balls with his toes. Derek fought the urge to moan as his aching cock was touched.

Denying Derek pleasure, Stiles removed his foot in order to walk over to his dresser. Reaching into his sock drawer, he pulled out a bottled, opening it and squirting something onto his fingers before walking back over to his captive wolf. With his free hand, he worked his fingers into the tight waistband, pulling on one side and then the other in order to pull the tiny briefs from the man's wide hips. Once he successfully pulled the underwear past the man's knees, he began spreading the lubricant on his fingers. He crouched down so that he was eye to eye with the man, staring him in the face as he squatted between his legs. His body forced the man's legs further apart.

"Ready to tell me yet?" Stiles asked with a grin.

"Never," Derek replied, defiance in his eyes.

As soon as the word escaped his mouth, Stiles jammed a lubed finger into the man's exposed hole. The back of his hand brushed against Derek's low-hangers as he continued to push his finger inside of the man. Derek flinched, his face scrunching up at the impact as he curled his toes and let out a little sound of exasperation. Stiles continued working his finger in, avoiding the prostate as he dug deeper.

"How about now?" Stiles asked, wiggling his finger inside of the hole for effect.

"Nope," Derek said, his voice sounding bedraggled after the assault on his anus.

Stiles easily worked a second finger into the tight hole, making the man clench his sphincter as his body was invaded. The boy was still avoiding Derek's prostate, saving the pleasure.

"Feel like telling me if you've been stealing my laundry now?" Stiles asked, lightly drawing one finger from his free hand up the underside of the man's thick cock.

"You'll have to do better than-" Derek managed to say, cut off by a third finger being shoved into his asshole.

Now that Stiles had three fingers inside of the man, he launched an attack on his prostate, rubbing it with his three fingers as he worked them into and out of his ass. Derek's knees drew up and his muscles clenched as he moaned, feeling a sensation from within himself that sent shivers up his spine, through his shoulders, and into the back of his head. Stiles let out a satisfied chuckle as he felt the man shake beneath his touch. His hips began bucking up and down to meet the boy's fingers, moving and grinding instinctively with the pleasure. Derek began making uncontrolled faces of pleasure as Stiles continued to stimulate his prostate.

Suddenly, Stiles ripped his fingers from the man's hole, leaving him empty in the middle of his ecstasy. Derek's eyes flew open as his face righted itself, a puppy-like whimper involuntarily escaping his throat at the unexpected emptiness. He gained control of his body again, lowering his legs and relaxing his tensed shoulders.

Making up for the denied pleasure, Stiles put his hands on the man's considerable member. Using both hands, he jerked Derek's thick seven inch cock, making the man squirm beneath his touch once more. He pressed against the head of his cock with his index finger as he slid up and down the cut meat. Releasing one hand, Stiles started playing with his balls. He could tell, however, that Derek was getting less pleasure from the one handed jack off. An idea struck him then, and he removed both hands to run to his closet.

When he returned, he had a fleshjack in his hands, popping the top open to reveal a synthetic asshole. Derek looked at the item dubiously for a moment, unsure of how good it could really feel. Before he could protest, Stiles was already applying the lube. Returning one hand to the man's low-hanging ballsack, Stiles slowly set the toy at the tip of Derek's cock, his precum mixing with the lube. Both watched with interest as Stiles lowered the fleshjack over the eight inches. It slowly swallowed up the entire cock, pushing down until his thick pubic hair touched it.

Derek was surprised to feel that it was quite realistic; it actually felt like he was having sex. Stiles smiled as he saw acceptance spread across Derek's face, starting a rhythm to jack the man's long dick. The look on his face turned to pleasure as Stiles started to pick up the pace, jerking him off faster and faster. As he did so, he moved his hands down, past the man's nuts, along his skin, slowly snaking one finger between his tight, muscular cheeks, and back into his hole. When he found the prostate, the chained-up man began to moan, pleasurable sensations coming from both sides of his pelvis.

Just as Derek began whimpering and whining with need, reaching the edge, Stiles ripped off the fleshjack, quickly replacing it with his mouth. At the moment that Stiles' lips touched the man's cock, cum erupted from the tip of his dick, filling the boy's mouth. Stiles continued to work up and down as he pushed the jizz from the man's prostate with his finger. His cum went straight into the boy's stomach, since he'd impaled his face right onto the man's dick, deep-throating the eight inches. He was so thick that Stiles had to open his jaw as far as he possibly could. Meanwhile, Derek began screaming with need, obscenities flowing from his lips as he clambered against his restraints, his pleasure totally out of his own control.

"God fucking dammit Stiles, eat my fucking cock, please, fuck yes, you feel so good inside my asshole, god dammit, fucking...fucking...fuck..." Derek screamed, slowing down until the fervor of the moment subsided. Stiles kept his lips around the dick long after the man was done, ensuring that he caught every drop of cum.

Suddenly, Sheriff Stilinski burst into the room, gun drawn. He took in the sight for a moment, silent and confused. His son, clad only in a jockstrap, had his mouth around Derek's enormously thick cock, one finger inside of the man's butthole while he sat on the floor, chained to the bed posts. Stiles quickly withdrew, covering himself with his lacrosse hoodie and leaving Derek no way to cover up. His deflating erection flopped unceremoniously onto his abs, rolling obscenely onto his thigh as the sheriff watched it decline in size. Derek hung his head, unable to do much more at the moment. "I...heard screaming..." the Sheriff said, still pointing his gun, confused.

He dropped his weapon, realization of the situation dawning on him as the rest of his senses caught up with his sight. Suddenly, he found himself wishing that his other senses had worked faster earlier, alerting him with the sounds and smells of sex before he walked into the door. Now he'd made an ass of himself. Stiles stared at his father's red face, his own developing a blush as he took in the strange combination of the smell of cum, sweat, and pheromones and the sight of his dad and naked boyfriend. "We were...er..." Stiles was unsure how to finish, wishing his dad would leave already.

Both Stiles and Derek were surprised when the Sheriff started laughing, nervously scratching his head. It seemed like several puzzle pieces clicked into place just then, and he was laughing at how obvious it had been. "I should have realized this was going on," he said, looking at the pair. "I mean, when I saw Derek sneak into your window and run back out with a pair of your underwear, it should've been pretty obvious."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterek Again

The next day, Derek was grateful as he reached the windowsill, happy to be able to climb into the window. The way up had been awkward and slow, the buttplug in his ass making every move send waves of disarming pleasure through his body. He even fell once. Scrambling through the window, he saw Stiles sitting at his computer again, wearing the same hoodie. Derek smiled, looking forward to how Stiles would react to the fact that Derek had shown up with the boy's sex toy in his butt. Stiles didn't turn around, however.

"So, I can see you've been disobedient today, private," Stiles said, his back to the man as he watched him in the reflection on his monitor. "Your lieutenant is not happy about this. What are we going to do with you?"

"Stiles, I don't-" Derek started, silenced by Stiles whipping his chair around to face the man, his expression serious. Derek couldn't help noticing what the boy was wearing; his hoodie was open again to reveal a matching maroon jock strap. This one looked like it went all the way around the boy's butt, making a frame for it with white piping.

"Did I say you could talk maggot!?" Stiles barked, putting Derek in his place and dragging his attention from the underwear. He smiled menacingly. "That's right, I didn't. Now... drop and give me 20."

Derek looked down at the ground, then back up at Stiles' expectant face. Urged by the angry look in the boy's eye, Derek dropped to the ground with a whine as the buttplug rubbed his prostate, making his shoulders shake. Shakily, he got into position, his leg clenching shut to make the plug dig into his prostate. As he lowered down, the toy relieved it's pressure on his pleasure center, only to pound it as he pushed back up. He hesitated, the feeling making him weak with pleasure.

"That's one..." Stiles said impatiently.

Derek pushed down again, his breath hitching as he essentially fucked himself on the buttplug in front of Stiles. The boy counted out each push up as he went, not knowing the body-shaking pleasure he was getting from each count. It made it very difficult to focus on the exercise, and even harder to stay up. All of his senses were shocked into submission as he moved, so he could barely coordinate the up and down motion as Stiles ticked off his push ups. Meanwhile, Stiles was totally oblivious to how embarrassingly sensual every movement was.

"Ten," Stiles counted off. "Okay, that's good enough... for now, Private."

Derek stood, grateful to get off of the floor and into a position that didn't encourage the buttplug to stimulate his prostate. Stiles gave the man an appraising look, his eyes going up and down his body without knowing that his own sex toy was lodged inside of his boyfriend. He could, however, sense that there was something off about him. "Front and center, Private!" Stiles commanded, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs beneath him. Derek obeyed, standing straight up so the plug pushed further into him, making him blush and hold his breath. "Strip!"

The man faltered for a moment before slipping off his omnipresent leather jacket, tossing it aside. "Slower," Stiles said as Derek grabbed hold of the edge of his gray t-shirt. "I want to watch. Make me want you."

Derek rolled his eyes, hoping the boy didn't see as he slowly took the edge of his t-shirt, hooking his thumbs beneath it and rocking his torso side to side as he slowly worked it up his abdomen. Luckily, he was flexible enough to move his shoulders without letting his hips budge, so the movement didn't agitate his sex toy as he revealed his ivory abs inch by inch. Reaching his nipples, Derek twisted the shirt off of his body in a quick and fluid motion, twisting his body with it to spin in a Michael Jackson-like circle. Stiles grinned at the man's smooth moves, though Derek cursed his bravado as the buttplug pushed his hard on from the inside. He unbuttoned his pants with a flick of his thumb, his stern and unhappy face not matching the agile and sexy movements of his body as he danced and flexed to silent striptease music. Thrusting his hips forward and holding on to his head with one hand to show off his biceps, Derek rubbed his thumb down his cock, unzipping his pants as he went along. This pressure encouraged his hard on as the plug nestled against his prostate. Turning around, he made a point of bending over to show his ass off to Stiles as he shimmed his jeans down his legs, spreading his cheeks so that the buttplug stayed off of his prostate for a moment. However, this only made his erection jump back to attention twice as hard upon standing back up.

He turned around to show Stiles his front, trying to hide the buttplug as he quickly yanked the underwear down, half-assing an attempt at doing a sexy dance. Really, Derek just wanted to avoid moving any more. Stiles seemed satisfied enough by his dance, though a hint of worry played at his eyes when he saw the sour expression on his boyfriend's face. His eyes only briefly wandered to the man's hard seven inches pointing at him, a drip of precum working its way down from the slit. He looked back up at the man's pained expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worried enough to break character.

Derek attempted to smile, biting his lip as he nodded. "Yes...sir," he breathed, his voice sounding almost ragged. Stiles even noticed that the vein in his neck protruded with effort as he spoke, pushing against his creamy flesh. The man's eyes were also wider than usual, his defined cheeks and bulging chest flushed red.

"Alright," Stiles said dubiously, still wondering what was ailing his lover, "then stand at attention, Private!"

Derek complied, standing up straight and closing what little space was left between him and the boy. As he stood, he couldn't help from letting out an exasperated little exhalation with every breath. Everything was getting to be too much; his lover's exposed skin, the sexy hoodie, the feeling of air on his naked body, the smell of Stiles' hard on beneath his underwear, the smell of his own pheromones, and the drop of precum which had now made its way all the way to the floor, leaving a gleaming trail of goo up to his cock. He could even smell Stiles' ball sweat as his bare ass and taint pressed down on the leather office chair. Overall, of course, the most excruciatingly erotic thing of the moment was the stolen sex toy pushing precum out of his dick from the inside.

Stiles sat back, observing the obviously pained man. His face was contemplative as he swirled his finger in a circle, indicating that the man was to turn a 360. Derek begrudgingly complied, knowing what was going to happen. He turned slowly, his eyes stretching to reach Stiles as long as they could. His boner wiggled as his hips moved around, still stimulated by the plug. When Stiles came back into view, his face had transformed from a contemplative mask into a shit-eating grin.

"So, Private, I see we've made another visit to my room today," Stiles said, pressing the tips of his fingers together in front of him. "Didn't we?"

Derek looked down at the ground, unable to reply. Stiles frowned, taking this as a challenge. "Fine," he said. "I'll just find out for myself." With that, Stiles reached out a foot, kicking out one of Derek's knees. This made him twist as he fell, landing face-first on the bed behind him. He saw the kick coming, since the human seemed slow and ungraceful to him, but he played along.

Stiles jumped from his seat. "Ha, just as I thought," he said smugly, reaching over and giving Derek's cheek a hard smack. The motion drove the buttplug in deeper, eliciting a moan from Derek. "You stole from me again."

He closed the space between him and the man, lovingly rubbing one hand over his ass while pulling his head up by the hair. They locked eyes as Stiles stroked his ass before giving it a hard smack. Derek closed his eyes and groaned again, his prostate taking another jab. Stiles's face lit up at the reaction, his mouth twisting into a wicked grin. He slid his long fingers over the man's perfect ass cheek again, feeling the curves as he tenderly made the man shiver. Derek let out a more painful sound as Stiles gave him another spank on the other cheek.

Dropping the man's head onto the bed, Stiles crouched down behind Derek and got to work. He pulled Derek's seven inches out from under him, grabbing that and his balls in one hand as he pulled, making Derek slide to the edge of the bed, now bent at the waist. Stiles gently stroked the cock inquisitively a few times at first, enjoying the shivers he could feel taking place within the man. He then used one finger to push against the plug. Derek moaned into the comforter beneath him. Smiling, Stiles gently grasped the plunger of the buttplug, pulling on it to pull it out. Derek's body seemed to release tension as he did this, focusing instead on the hand jerking his cock. Stiles then roughly slammed the toy into the man's ass, making him cry out.

Taking his hand off of the cock, Stiles continued this process of fucking the man with his plug, now spanking him every time he pummeled his prostate with it. Seeing the red marks of his hand fade quickly from the man's supernatural healing, Stiles started a faster rhythm of spanking, continually pounding the man's cheeks with one hand while he bludgeoned his prostate with the other. This faster spanking made the man's creamy, muscular ass bounce and jiggle more, but the red handprints only lasted a few seconds before fading back into pristine marble. Meanwhile, Derek did not take his punishment easily, screaming every time the plug was shoved back inside of him.

Derek pushed himself up onto his forearms as Stiles looked up at him. His body was hovering just above the bed now. "Did I say you could heal my handprints?" Stiles demanded, sounding furious even though he knew the man couldn't help it. "I'll just have to teach you how to behave!"

Stiles focused then instead on the plug. He pulled it out slowly, taking it nearly all the way out as he drew it across Derek's prostate on the way out. Suddenly, he slammed it in with all the force he could muster, making Derek howl as his ass was brutalized. The man's dick jumped as his body tensed from the force. His cry was much louder than the others, because of both the force of the blow and the lack of anything to muffle it now that he was elevated above the bed. Stiles could hear his ragged breathing afterward, and see his tight stomach move in and out beneath him as he tried to stabilize his breath. Enjoying the view, Stiles yanked on the plug, nearly pulling it out all at once. Derek yowled again as the thick object was forced across his prostate and through his sphincter without warning. Stiles smirked maniacally as he slowly pushed against the toy, using just enough force to make it inch into the man. Derek had the time to register how every centimeter of the object felt as it was pushed inside of him, moaning softly the entire time, reaching a crescendo as it reached his prostate and started dragging across it with agonizing slowness.

Stiles continued this process for a moment, varying his speeds to keep the man guessing. He enjoyed watching Derek's reactions. The man was now covered in sweat, his body unsure of how to handle the intense pleasure and pain. This made his pale muscles glisten. His hard cock was leaking a steady stream of precum now, dripping down and making a growing wet spot on Stiles' bed. He wondered how much the wolf's supernatural precum would soak through, almost hoping that it would get all the way down to his mattress so he could smell it when he slept. Derek inhaled sharply, which only made him hornier as his werewolf sense of smell picked up every sexy hint. His own leaking cock was letting off a powerful scent, as was his sweaty body. He could also make out Stiles' sweat, absorbing into his lacrosse hoodie as he pushed and pulled into and out of the man. Derek could even make out the fact that Stiles had a boner, which was pressing hard against his jock as it absorbed his precum.

After one final pull-out, Stiles dropped the sex toy on the floor, causing Derek to almost sigh with relief. Without warning, the boy then gripped Derek's hips, pulling his face into the man's ass. Stiles used his hands to hold the man tight against his face as he worked his tongue over the outside of his hole, teasingly flicking it until he finally plunged deep inside the sweaty pucker. He tasted Derek, moving his tongue around inside as he stimulated the man's prostate. Derek moaned, feeling a slight scratch of stubble against his cheeks as his hole was serviced. Stiles slipped his face down, his tongue popping out of the man's hole only to wrap around his balls. Stiles licked the equally sweaty sack, working his lips onto it and sucking on them as he slipped a finger into Derek's asshole. He fingered the man's prostate while servicing his nuts, making him moan in an even deeper tone as his knees threatened to give out.

"Stiles," he whispered, clutching the bedspread with his hands. Stiles continued his anal play, adding another finger as he moved on to licking the underside of the man's cock. His ass was stretched further, his sphincter having already healed from the plug. Stiles flicked his tongue over the head of Derek's dripping cock, making his hole clench with pleasure.

"Stiles," he said, a bit more forcefully as his toes curled. The boy worked a third finger into the hole, playing with his prostate while he ran his tongue all the way up and down the underside of the man's shaft. His lips made brief contact with his skin as he did so, making Derek jump slightly at the feeling. Stiles suddenly pulled the hard member back, shoving it into his mouth at an angle that would've been painful for a human.

"STILES!" Derek yelled, his claws ripping holes in the comforter beneath him as a wolfy edge worked its way into his voice. Stiles stopped, popping the cock out of his mouth and removing his fingers from the hole. "Please, please, mount me! I need to be fucked, right now!" Derek had never known such physical need before, his body feeling as if it would collapse without Stiles' cock inside of it. In his desperation, he started whining like a dog, curling his hips up under him to hump the bed. Stiles decided that he really did look like a dog trying to mate with the bed.

The boy stood, taking pity on his boyfriend. He pulled aside the leghole of his maroon jockstrap, making his heavy, dripping cock flop out and bounce unceremoniously. Derek's efforts to make love to Stiles' bed doubled as he could smell the pheromones coming from the boy's precum and ball sweat without interference from the underwear. Stiles took his dick by the base, mercifully planting it inside the man with one quick shove.

Derek cried out with a sound that neither of them had ever heard before. It was filled with sated lust and satisfied need, sexy yet powerful. With the eight thick inches inside of him, Derek was whole. "That ought to teach you, thief," Stiles said with a salacious smile, thrusting his hips forward. Derek moaned, his toes curling beneath him once more. He gave the man a good deep dicking, pushing his meat all the way into the man and pulling it nearly all the way out. Stiles' hips pounded hard against Derek's, making the man's butt jiggle with reverberations. He smacked the man's ass, doubling the bouncing of his cheeks as he rode his lover. Stiles enjoyed seeing the red marks disappear as the man's sphincter tightened around his length with every smack.

Stiles stopped the hard pounding, gaining a new rhythm as he found the man's prostate. He aimed his cock toward it, pounding it with short, rapid thrusts. This made Derek's vision blur, and the man keened loudly with need and ecstasy. Stiles continued the short, fast strokes to the man's prostate, and as he did so, Derek's moans got louder and louder. He rose octaves as the boy brought him more physical joy that he thought possible. Derek felt a climax start at the very outer edges of his awareness, spreading as it filled his body and conscious mind. His intense pleasure and his voice reached seemingly impossible feats as he came, thick ropes of jizz shooting down towards the earth. Derek tried to get up so he could coax the cum from his dick with his hand, but Stiles pushed him back down forcefully, not yet finished. His jizz covered his own legs, as well as Stiles' the bedsheet, and the floor.

Stiles spun Derek around on his dick, flipping the man over onto his back so that he was lying in his own cum. He grabbed his thick, hairy legs by the calves and pushed down, using them for leverage as he came face to face with the man he was fucking. His hips continued to move in and out of the man as he looked down at his satisfied face. Grabbing fistfuls of leg hair with his hands, Stiles pushed further in so that his entire cock was completely buried inside of the man, holding it there as he held his breath.

Derek whimpered. "Don't...stop, don't stop, please, never stop," Derek moaned breathlessly. "I'm gonna...I'm...gonna..."

Derek moaned as Stiles continued bucking inside him, not removing his cock at all, but moving around within the man's ass. Derek came again, more ropes of jizz hitting his hard abs and pecs, as well as his and Stiles' faces. His cum was slung around as Stiles continued gyrating inside of him, his hands still glued to the man's calves.

"Stiles, fuck, yes. Stiles, I love you," Derek said, passion and desire in his clear, honest eyes as they locked with Stiles' dark, smoldering ones.

Hearing this, Stiles reached his climax, letting his load go inside of the man and burying his seed within him. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Derek's in a passionate and breathless kiss, tender yet filled with need. As he did so, his load started spilling out of Derek's hole, working its way around the boy's thick cock to ooze out. "I...love you too, Derek," Stiles mumbled against the man's neck. "I love you too."

Derek wrapped his arms and legs around the boy, holding him close and smearing his cum on the boy's hoodie and chest. He refused to let the boy go, forcing him to hold the embrace until the throbbing dick within him had deflated entirely. Finally able to stand, Stiles pulled his limp, jizz-covered member out of Derek's hole.

Derek sat up, more cum leaking from inside of him and onto the bed, as well as the floor beneath him. He took Stiles' jaw with his hand, bringing their eyes level. "Stiles," he said, observing the face before him. Stiles' little pink tongue instinctively darted out, wetting his lips. "I really do... love you, that is."

"I know, Derek," Stiles said, his dark eyes reflecting the clear blue ones before him. "I love you, too. I always will. I- I never want you to leave."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Sheriff Stilinski scratched his head as he stood up, totally at a loss for where his carpet cleaning solution had gone. He'd always kept it under the sink, but it had somehow disappeared. Shrugging, he went into the laundry room, dragging Stiles' hamper. He opened the washing machine, picking up the first item. It was Stiles' lacrosse hoodie. He reached his hand into the pocket to check if the boy had left anything, and noticed a strange little stain. Holding the garment at arm's length, he looked it over. There was a crusty white stain covering a large spot on the hoodie, with little flecks dotting it in the extremities. Boys will be boys, he laughed to himself, blushing as he dropped the hoodie into the washer. Still, maybe we should have a talk. He reached into the basket, pulling out the boy's comforter. He noticed a little tear at the edge of the blanket, and held it at arm's length to see if he could sew it up. Oh, dear God, Stiles, you're doing your own damn laundry! Mr. Stilinski thought with horror as he looked at the comforter. It was quite covered with what was obviously dried cum, and there were long tears that looked almost like claw marks across the middle. "Stiles!" he called, dumping the item back into the hamper and walking out of the laundry room, toward the stairs. "We need to have a talk about Derek! Now!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt/Danny

Matt hurried into the locker room after his last class ended. He pushed his way through the halls, wishing everyone would disappear so he could get to his goal faster. Finally, he reached the doors just as two guys were coming out, laughing at some joke. Matt casually pretended to tie his shoe as they passed, continuing his charade until they were gone. He then slipped through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

He glanced around the little room, his eyes scanning the area. There was only one person in the room, shoving some clothes into the yellow locker in front of him. Matt cursed under his breath. Though he had come in time to see Danny in the locker room, he was just a few minutes too late; the boy was already in his swimming gear. Regardless, Matt couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the broad, tan body barely covered in front of him. He was wearing a black pair of jammers, which Matt had just recently learned to be like a wet suit, but only covering the pelvis and thighs. The clingy material left little to the imagination, though his bulge was distorted, probably by a swimmer's jock.

"Oh, hey Matt," Danny said, smiling as he met the boy's gaze. Matt found himself melting beneath the scrutiny of the deep brown eyes, mesmerized by the cute dimples in Danny's cheeks as he smiled to show a row of perfect white teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping to catch you-" Matt started to say, before biting his tongue. In his stupor, Matt had started to tell Danny why he was really there; he was hoping to catch the boy naked. Now his face turned red as his mind flew into a frenzy, trying to find a way out of this situation.

"Catch me?" Danny said, closing the locker and taking a few steps toward the boy. "Well what can I do for you?"

"Er-uhm, I was hoping... I was hoping to catch you before you were in the pool. I need a favor," Matt said, trying hard to keep his eyes off of the exposed, tanned skin in front of him. "This is kind of embarrassing, but I don't really know how to swim. Do you think you could give me lessons?"

Danny smiled, flexing the dimples on his dark cheeks. "Sure, can you start Monday?" Danny asked, being helpful as ever.

"Sure, of course," Matt said, beaming at the thought. "See you Monday after classes!"

"See you then!" Danny said, turning around and walking through the door on the opposite side of the room to the pool area.

Matt strode confidently out of the locker room, almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting personal swimming lessons from Danny. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit him. Swimming lessons? He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't know how to swim. Now he'd actually have to go into the water. He counteracted these thoughts by reminding himself that he would be with Danny, who was also captain of the Beacon Hills swim team. He would be safe in Danny's strong arms. And with any luck, he'd get to see the perfect boy naked.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Matt hurried into the locker room once again. Danny was already in his shorts by the time Matt had gotten there, so he'd missed the boy while he was naked. In fact, he'd had to strip in front of Danny, changing into the crappy pair of swimming trunks he'd bought over the weekend; the only ones he could find in January were short and wide in a preppy style, so he felt quite exposed.

The swimming lesson hadn't gone well. Matt was terrified of water, so he didn't leave the shallow end much. It was embarrassing, having his crush watch him struggle just to get into the water. What made the situation worse was that Danny was incredibly understanding and encouraging, helping him along but going at his pace. The boy's patience only made him feel worse that he couldn't overcome his fears. By the end of their lesson, he'd barely gotten waist-deep in the shallow end. Danny said that they'd continue to try until Matt was a world-class swimmer, continually encouraging his protege.

Now he followed Danny into the locker room, excited that he would finally catch a glimpse of the boy's naked body. They both toweled off, removing all of the pool water from their bodies as they chatted about swimming techniques. Matt eagerly dropped his swimming trunks, toweling off with Danny as they continued to talk. Just as Danny slipped a finger under the edge of his shorts, a screeching noise filled the air. Flashing lights went off as the fire alarm blared.

Matt froze, unsure of what to do. Danny took charge, grabbing both of their gym bags in one hand and guiding Matt toward the door with the other. Within a matter of seconds, he'd gotten them both into the hallway, even managing to wrap a towel around his naked companion's waist before they left the locker room. The pair stumbled out into the open hallway, Danny quickly looking for fire as he assessed the exits. Just down the hall, a teacher was fumbling with the fire alarm, trying to push the little lever back into its upright position. He looked up to see the two scantily clad teens dripping and looking for an exit.

"Oh, sorry, that was my fault," he called down the hall, looking somewhat embarrassed. "My bag accidentally got caught on the lever!"

The pair took a moment to catch their breath, the adrenaline in their systems slowly dissipating. Danny smiled, chuckling to himself. "I think I'm just gonna shower at home," he yelled into the boy's ear, noticing that it would probably take a few moments for someone with a key to turn off the alarm to show up.

Matt smiled and nodded, wanting to both scream and cry on the inside as he watched the boy slip on his t-shirt and sneakers before heading out the door. Matt decided to shower at home as well, changing in the hallway. He no longer cared that the teacher would see him naked; at this point, his disappointment made him apathetic. As he stepped out into the chilly air, feeling the water in his hair get cold, he contented himself with the thought that they would have many more lessons together.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A week passed before their next swimming lesson. This one had gone better than the previous one, since Matt had managed to get into the water up to his chest and swim back and forth. He'd bee working at getting more comfortable around water at home, and Danny seemed genuinely proud of him. They both recognized that he had a long way to go, but he'd managed to suppress the terrifying memories of his childhood while he was in the pool. This, he figured, was the first step.

After their session was over, Matt followed Danny into the locker room. At this point, he was almost certain that something was going to go wrong. Regardless, he couldn't help getting nervously excited while they dried off with their towels, preparing for the shower. Before Matt was even done drying off, however, Danny had already managed to dry off, strip down, and run into the shower.

"I don't mean to rush you," Danny called, "it's just that I'm in a hurry. I've got a date tonight."

As Matt dropped his towel and swimming trunks, his heart sank. Of course Danny would be going out with someone. Why wouldn't he? He was attractive, smart, athletic, and incredibly nice. Matt somberly wandered over to the showers, now barely excited that he would get to see the boy naked. His spirits lifted considerably when he saw the perfect, lithe form twisted beneath the running currents of water, looking like a Greek god posing beneath a waterfall. His hard, tanned pecs gleamed beneath the halogen lights as water beaded across his dark nipples, his taut abs flexing as he reached up to adjust the shower head. This move also gave Matt an ample view of his thick biceps and hairy armpits, stretching his torso to show off its lean shape, accentuating the hard V-shape his contracted muscles made leading down to his pelvis. His legs were thick, a soft brown with dark hairs plastered against it at regular intervals. However, Matt's eyes spent the most time lingering on the man's pelvis. He had a happy trail leading down to a bush of dark pubes, trimmed well to keep them short and around the base of his manhood. His cock was soft, three inches of cut meat hanging from his pelvis, almost taunting Matt into making a move.

"Like what you see?" Danny said sardonically, his eyes looking into Matt's. Matt blushed as he realized that he'd been caught watching the man shower.

"Er, no I was just-" Matt was unsure of how to explain exactly why he was standing in front of the showers, staring at Danny while he was naked.

"Well your dick seems to say otherwise," Danny said, stepping out from under the stream of the shower to close the space between him and Matt. He grabbed the boy's crotch, his hand fitting perfectly around the pouch of Matt's swim jock. The curly-haired boy suddenly realized that he'd gotten a hard on while watching Danny shower. His blush deepened as the breath escaped his body, his mind frantically trying to understand the whole situation. He'd finally seen his crush naked, but he'd popped a boner in the process. So now Danny knew he wanted him.

But Danny's hand was on his crotch. He was rubbing Matt's cock. It struck Matt that his swimming instructor had similar feelings for him. A smile tripped across his face as Matt reached out a hand to touch the perfect, glistening skin before him. The water was cool, contrasting with the heat of Danny's skin as Matt made contact with his side. He ran his fingers down Danny's obliques, tracing the V-shape on his pelvis with his fingers until they made contact with his cock. The tanned boy gasped slightly as he felt foreign fingers make contact with his sensitive organ.

Feeling emboldened, Matt pressed his lips to Danny's neck, tasting his skin. Danny bared his neck to the boy, loving the gentle sucking on his bronzed tendons. Matt worked his way to Danny's chest, licking off the water as he slid his lips between his pecs, down his abs, over his flat belly button, down his happy trail, and around the boy's cock. Danny let out a little moan as his dark, cut meat was engulfed into Matt's warm mouth. Matt got down onto his knees, worshipping the cock as he filled his mouth with it. With ever pump of his lips, Matt could feel it getting bigger and bigger in his mouth, expanding to fill him.

When the cock finally touched the back of his throat, Matt backed off of it, using his spit as lube while he jacked Danny off. The boy's dick had gotten to seven inches of dark, pulsating meat jutting out from his damp pubes. Soap still ran down his lean body as Matt ran his tongue along the underside of the shaft, looking up at Danny. The tanned boy was looking down, his mouth slightly agape but curling into a smile at the edges.

Matt tried taking the whole length in his mouth again, but choked on the now fully erect dick. Danny chuckled as the boy on his knees gagged. "How about we try somewhere with a little more room?" Danny suggested, lifting the coughing boy by his armpits.

Danny set Matt down face-first on a little bench in the locker room. Matt complacently spread his legs, somewhat unsure of what was going to happen. The muscular boy got onto his knees, immediately planting his face in the hairy ass before him. He licked up and down the crack, slowly pushing his tongue in further and further as he went. Matt's cheeks jiggled as he shuddered with tantalizing pleasure. Once his tongue was all the way in, Danny pushed it into Matt's hole as he spread the boy's cheeks with his hands. The hairy boy's knees gave way beneath him as he felt the tongue enter his ass, Danny's expert muscle knowing exactly how to make it pleasurable before even touching the prostate. One his hole was lubed up, Danny stood, his pelvis level to Matt's ass.

Lying on the bench, Matt arched his back as he spread his legs, ready for the hunk to enter him. He bit his lip in anticipation as he felt Danny grab the waistband of his jockstrap. All at once, Danny thrust his pelvis forward, pulling back on the jock so that his dick collided with the hole, pushing in Matt's virgin asshole all at once. As he did so, how tanned, low-hangers smacked against Matt's balls with an audible thwack. The bottom screamed, his cry degrading into an unintelligible moan of pleasure.

Danny started a regular rhythm, pushing his pelvis against the boy's hairy cheeks as he fucked his virgin hole. Matt moaned as his prostate was pummeled, his cock getting harder and harder inside of his jockstrap. The swimmer still held on to Matt's jock, using it for leverage as he pounded his asshole. Matt continued to moan, holding on to the bench beneath him until his knuckles turned white. Danny's cock filled him, dragging along his prostate as he pushed in and out of the boy.

Eventually, Danny let go of the jockstrap, after having pulled it so hard that the strap had ripped, reaching up and grabbing onto Matt's curly hair as he fucked him. Matt followed the direction his hair was being pulled, rising until he was practically standing, his head level with Danny's as his kness pressed onto the bench. Matt's back was still arched as Danny pushed into his butt, his head tossed back as his hair was pulled. The pale boy's body was stretched, making his abs taut and white as his hard cock bobbed with the motion of Danny's hips, now free from the broken jockstrap. He raised his hands up to meet Danny's, instinctively going to where his head hurt and subsequently revealing the curly hair in his pits.

Danny pressed his tan lips against the pale, tender skin of Matt's neck, sucking gently on the pristine marble. He reached his other hand around, sliding it up and down the length of Matt's aching dick. He squeezed his fingers around the base of the head, sliding down and up as he jerked the boy off, still pounding his ass. His hips took up the rhythm of his hand's strokes as he simultaneously stimulated the boy's prostate and cock. He moaned as their bodies rocked back and forth together, the gentle sounds of flesh smacking flesh filling the room with their moans as the smell of their now sweaty bodies and precum made every inhalation get them each even hornier.

Suddenly, Danny threw Matt back down on the bench beneath them, leaning down after him as his breathing became ragged. He lied down on top of Matt, his hips still moving forward so that he was humping him like a dog. Matt was confused for a moment before he felt the pelvic thrusts slow, a warm sensation filling him from deep within as the tanned, muscular boy jizzed in his ass. Danny stayed in that position for a moment, enjoying the closeness with the boy beneath him. Then, he stood up, pulling his flaccid cock from the hole as Matt flipped onto his back. The boy opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short by Danny's lips around his cock. It took only a few short sucks before Matt, having been on the edge since he first saw Danny naked, finally came. Danny swallowed his load, winking as he licked his lips.

They both went into the showers in silence, happy to just be in one another's company after the sensual experience. Matt soaped up Danny's hard muscles, washing him. Danny lathered body wash all over Matt's hairy skin, even managing to get the cum out of his ass. They washed one another, sharing an occasional and brief kiss beneath the warm water.

Once they were both clean, they went into the locker room, drying off again, this time while totally naked. As they took out their clothes to get dressed, Matt struck up a conversation.

"Sorry if that all took too long," he said, trying to sound casual. He trained his eyes away from Danny, realizing that the jockstrap had been the only underwear he'd brought.

"Too long?" Danny said, looking over at Matt as he slipped on his dark orange briefs.

"You know, 'cause of your date," Matt said, managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice by satisfying himself with their encounter. "I'm sorry if you're late."

"Oh, no, it's no problem," Danny said, nonchalant as he slipped his tight jeans around his thick thighs. "Speaking of which, what time are you picking me up?"

"What?" Matt asked, hesitating in the midst of buttoning his pants.

"Oh, you want me to drive?" Danny asked, slipping on his orange and red striped shirt. "Okay, then I'll pick you up around seven, since we're already late."

"What do you mean?" Matt asked, resuming getting dressed as his cheeks burned with confusion and embarrassment.

"For our date," Danny said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm feeling adventurous; do you want to go to that new raw food restaurant downtown?"

Matt smiled to himself, trying to hide the fact that inside, he felt like screaming and dancing. "Sure," he said, smiling broadly as he slipped on his shirt. "That sounds great."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles/Isaac

Stiles stood toward the back of the room, observing the club. He knew that this would be the prime time for his innocent act, especially since it was still fairly early; the club was just beginning to fill up. This would mean that he could pretend to have gotten here when it was fairly empty, and gotten overwhelmed as it filled up with people. His eyes narrowed in the dim light as he looked over the heads of the throng of dancers, looking at the various cages dotted around the club. He searched for his prey, analyzing each potential candidate. Some seemed to jaded, others too elitist, and others still too nervous. Finally, he found one: the perfect combination of inexperienced, genuinely nice, and confident. This cage boy was going to be his project for the night.

He feigned nervousness as he bumped through the crowd, putting on a show for the man. Sure, it may have been easier to just find someone in the club to go home with, but where was the fun in that? Getting a gogo boy to jerk you off in the middle of a busy club was a real accomplishment. And so Stiles kept the man in his peripheral vision, acting more nervous when he noticed the dark eyes swing his way.

Bumbling up to the bar, Stiles ordered a beer, looking confused and overly polite. He paid in cash up front, pretending to be confused about how this whole thing worked. As he turned around, he noticed the gogo boy's eyes on him more often than before. He knew that he'd piqued the man's interest. This whole charade had gotten a lot easier after Stiles had moved cities. The various denizens of the nightlife in Chicago were starting to remember his face, and once he'd even tried to swindle the same bartender in a leather bar twice.

He made his way closer to the cage, making a few lame attempts at dancing before eventually giving up and sticking to the wall. Stiles did all of this in perfect viewing distance of the boy in the cage. As he got nearer, he let his eyes wander over the man, pretending to be embarrassed but overcome with desire. The man was pale, with thin hips and a sexy mouth. His curly brown hair bounced as he danced inside the cage, barely covered by a pair of worn, brown leather combat boots and a white pair of briefs. When he looked up, he noticed the man's dark eyes, lined in black to make them pop, were fixed on him for a moment. He blushed, turning away. That hadn't been acting, he'd really never seen such an earnest look in a dancer's eyes before.

Stiles went through the entire game of watching the boy dance before darting his eyes away once again, still clinging to the wall. Downing half of his beer, he pretended to muster his confidence as he fought his way through the crowd to where the boy was dancing. There were only a few people around the cage, only one or two really watching the dancer moving. By now, he could see the glitter sticking to the man's chest and abs, clinging to his tight, pale skin. He had a few dollar bills sticking out of the waistband of his briefs. The brand was Naked, Stiles noticed. This cage boy had good taste.

The thinner boy took a sip of his drink, trying to look nonchalant as he crossed his arms, glancing over at the gogo boy next to him. Eventually, the dancer looked down at him again, their eyes meeting. Stiles feigned awkwardness and embarrassment, scratching the back of his head and diverting his eyes.

"First time here?" the boy asked, leaning down slightly to show off his ass to the other side of the cage and listening for a reply from the nervous boy.

"Y-yeah," Stiles said, almost grateful that the very first thing he said to the boy wasn't a lie at least. "So... what's your name?"

Stiles almost cringed at how awkwardly stiff the question sounded. He was almost getting too good at the innocent act; he'd have to remember to use it less in the future, lest it actually become part of his personality. "I'm Isaac," the man said, straightening up to gyrate his hips. With his attention diverted, the few people paying attention to him started to lose interest. Some walked over to other cages. "You?"  
"I-I'm Stiles," he said in a rushed tone, his voice sounding meek. "I don't usually come to... er- These kinds of things aren't usually my scene."

"Really?" Isaac asked, continuing to dance as he held the conversation. "Well let me give you a little tip: you're supposed to give me one."

Stiles feigned confusion for a minute at the oh-so witty remark. Inside, he was rolling his eyes at the overblown attempt at being suave. Lots of people working the night scene tried to be cooler than they were due to some romantic notion set up generally by movies, and it usually showed. He fumbled around with his pockets for a few minutes before finding his wallet, slipping a five dollar bill out. The idea of using a ten or even a twenty crossed his mind, since it would show his naivete, but he didn't want to shell out that kind of cash. He held out the bill, as if he expected Isaac to take it. Stiles made his cheeks turn red as he pretended to realize where he was supposed to put the tip. With one hand, he stretched out the waistband, dropping the bill in with his other.

For his own amusement, he may have pulled the waistband down just a little too low, so the man's cock was partially exposed. He caught a glimpse of what he hoped would be coming attractions: a leather cock ring wrapped around the base of a thick piece of meat, with a neat, lightning bolt-shaped patch of pubic hair. "Is it standard practice to wear a cock ring?" Stiles asked, actually curious.

Isaac turned his body to the side as he danced, twisting his head to look over and down at the boy with his dark blue eyes. "Oh, you weren't supposed to see that," Isaac said, grinning a bit with chagrin.

"Is it supposed to keep you hard all night?" Stiles asked, now back to feigning innocence for the benefit of his dancer.

"No, we're not allowed to get hard, actually," Isaac replied, continuing to twist his body around the cage while keeping his face to Stiles. "We could get sued or shut down. And definitely fired. It's supposed to keep us somewhere in between I guess. Big enough to see and impress, but small enough to not be lewd."

"Oh," Stiles said, dropping his eyes as he made himself blush slightly. "So then you're not supposed to...er...touch?"

"No, definitely not," Isaac said, laughing a bit. Stiles dropped his head, looking a little hurt and dejected. Isaac felt bad for making the novice feel bad. "I mean, not usually."

Stiles perked up a bit, this time in earnest when faced with the possibility of getting what he came here for. "So do you usually do it for the highest tipper, or..." he asked, pretending to reach for his wallet with no actual intention of giving the man any more money that night.

"No, it's not like that," Isaac said, swinging his hips more wildly as he danced closer and closer to the side of the cage where Stiles was standing. "It's usually just the cutest boy."

Stiles pretended to blush again, this time with some honesty behind it. He almost started to feel back, conning this man who apparently actually thought he was cute. Reminding himself that he was probably just falling for the expert act, Stiles, brought his eyes up to look into the deep blue pools in front of him. The eyeliner really did make his eyes fucking pop.

Going on instinct now, Stiles leaned in toward the bars. He could smell coconut on the man's soft, pale skin. On the other side, Isaac was face-to-face with the boy. He leaned in as well, until he felt cold metal brushing against his cheeks. Their lips met, but only briefly. For Isaac, it felt timid and pure, something he saw very little of while working in a nightclub. For Stiles, it was intense and honest, something which he also got fairly little of while playing this game of his. There was almost nothing tawdry about it; that is, except for the fact that he was kissing a nearly-naked dancer inside of a cage in a nightclub and had every intention of having sex with the man.

"So," Stiles started as they drew away from each other, "who would you say is your pick tonight?"

In response, Isaac opened the cage door, reaching around to grab Stiles by the collar, dragging him inside. There, he pressed the boy's back against the wall of the cage, gyrating his hips as he pressed his lips into his. Stiles was honestly a little too shocked to move at this point. He'd known that he was doing well, but he hadn't realized how much he'd gotten under the man's skin. Isaac rubbed a hand up and down the crotch of Stiles' tight jeans, feeling his boner and encouraging it.

In turn, Stiles did the same, fondling Isaac's half-hard cock through his thin briefs. Isaac slipped the front of his underwear down over his dick, letting it spring out. Stiles looked down at the pale, cut member bobbing in the space between them. His balls were shaven, and his lightning bolt pubes shaped perfectly around his cock to make it look bigger and more stylized."I-I've never touched...another...p-penis before," Stiles said, looking up from the member into Isaac's eyes. "I mean, besides my own."

He blushed and looked away for a moment before feeling Isaac's hand on his own, guiding him toward his cock. Stiles felt his body heat before they made any contact. His skin was soft and velvety, and his cock immediately got harder as his hand made contact. He withdrew it after only a few seconds of touching. Curiously, he raised his hand to his face, inhaling the scent. It smelled musty with pheromones and wildly sexual. "If you don't stop doing stuff like that, you're gonna take me over the edge," Isaac said with a hint of a smile as his cock rapidly grew, filling the space between them.

"I-Is that a bad thing?" Stiles asked, pretending to have a moment of boldness. In response, Isaac unzipped Stiles' pants, fishing through his underwear until he found his cock. Whipping the hard, uncut six inches out of the boy's jeans, Isaac pressed them together and slid his hand up and down the pair of dicks, their undersides pressed against one another. Stiles closed his eyes and bit his lip as he felt the man's soft hand jerking him off.

Stiles took charge, reaching down and grabbing Isaac's dick in one hand and balls in the other as the curly-haired man let go, bracing his hands on the bars to either side of Stiles. Despite all of the people watching, neither noticed that there was anyone else in the room. Stiles tried to hide his expertise as he played with the man's dick, using his precum as lube and pulling on his balls to heighten the sensation. His hand slid up and down the six and a half inch cock, kept hard by the cock ring around his thick base. As he did so, he casually moved his feet so that they were intertwined with Isaac's, pulling him closer so that nobody outside of the cage could see.

Isaac put one hand down, managing to jerk Stiles' cock downward as Stiles jerked upward. He pointed the hard member toward the ground, making Stiles moan slightly as he jacked off the nearly-naked man. Isaac's tight, pale body pressed against Stiles' clothed one, his sweat making the material cling to his body as he fondled the boy's dick. Stiles was enjoying the fruits of his labors, getting a handjob from a hot gogo boy in the middle of a club. Trying to seem like a newcomer to the sexual scene, Stiles had made sure not to let himself cum for a few days. By now, he was ready to blow.

He shot four hot loads into Isaac's hand, coating it with sticky jizz as the rest shot onto the floor. He blushed the deepest shade of red he could manage, and hoped that the early cumming would make it seem as if nobody else had ever made him cum before. With his dry hand, Isaac lifted Stiles' ashamed face to his own, and brought the hand covered in jizz to his mouth. Stiles watched as the man sensually licked the load off of his hand, their eyes remaining locked as he swallowed it. Meanwhile, Stiles continued to pump the gogo boy's meat.

By now, there was a bit of a crowd around their side of the little cage, each man pressing in to catch a glimpse of the two hot guys jerking each other off within. Stiles leaned in and kissed Isaac on the mouth again, tasting his own seed. He could feel Isaac's lips turn up in a smile as they pressed against his own. They continued making out while Stiles jacked him off in the cage, his back pressed against the bars. Stiles even managed to drop Isaac's underwear to the ground, apparently without his noticing. This was clearly not something he was supposed to do, but Stiles wanted to give the crowd a little something to look at.

After a few moments, Stiles felt Isaac moan into his mouth. The lithe boy backed his face off, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. He moaned again. "Please, stop," Isaac said, unable to back his body away from the source of his pleasure so close to climaxing. "I'm really not supposed to, you need to stop or I'm gonna..."

Stiles' hand felt warm as Isaac's abs and thighs contracted, his muscles tightening as he came. His pale ass cheeks jiggled for the crowd as his jizz spurted high up between the two, smattering Stiles' shirt and hand as well as Isaac's bare chest. His cum mixed with the glitter and grease as Isaac's body relaxed, slumping against Stiles. They stood for a moment, the naked man slumped against Stiles as he leaned against the bars, smiling to himself.

Remembering where he was, Isaac stood, quickly yanking his underwear up. Stiles stuffed his own cock away, zipping his jeans. They were covered in Isaac's sweat and his own cum now, and his shirt was stained with cum, sweat, and glitter. Isaac opened the door for Stiles, his cheeks burning as he realized how easily he'd gotten caught up in the moment. "Dammit," he said to Stiles as the boy passed by, a guilty smile on his lips, "I still have to stay fluffed all night."

"Sorry," Stiles said with a mischievous smirk.

Isaac caught Stiles' shoulder as he walked past the cage. "Do you have a pen?" he asked. Stiles handed one to him, and he wrote down a phone number on the boy's hand. "Text me sometime?"

"Definitely," Stiles said, beaming as he walked away. As he stepped out into the night, he licked the back of his hand, wiping the ink off of it as he strode into the night. Cum and sweat cooling on his chest and body, Stiles wondered how he would explain the stains and glitter to his roommate. After all, if he was gonna keep up the innocent act to seduce his roommate, he couldn't just tell him he'd giving a gogo boy a handjob in a cage.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson/Scott

Jackson looked into the rear view mirror, his head throbbing from the adrenaline pumping through his system as he sped off down the road. He could still see his boyfriend in the distance, standing at the door screaming. In Jackson's frenzied mind, one thought flashed through that almost made him laugh it was so coherent: If that son of a bitch was always so fucking possessive, why did he cheat again? Why did he want to keep me around so badly if he wanted someone else, too?

As his mind slowed down, Jackson took stock of himself. He was pretty sure that he was going to get a black eye from where his now ex-boyfriend punched him. Having left rather suddenly, he didn't have much of anything, including shoes. At the moment, his only possessions were an empty wallet, his cell phone, this car, his black tank top, and a pair of black boxer-briefs. The car was pretty low on gas, and he didn't have any money to get more. How could he get money? There was no way he could go back home now.

How did I let my life get like this? he asked himself, really chastising himself. He'd always striven to be the best, to do better at everything than everyone else. In fact, he'd stepped on anyone who'd gotten in his way. Sure, this made some people consider him a "mean person", but it also got him ahead. All of this had changed when one person had managed to see through his bravado, and managed to break through his thick wall of angst and hostility. He'd managed to get under Jackson's skin, and love him like he needed to be loved. When Jackson realized this, he fell head over heels in love. It didn't matter that his parents disowned him and cut off all of his funding for loving another man. It didn't matter that this meant he couldn't afford school. It didn't matter that he ended up totally dependent on someone else. It didn't matter because he was in love.

Stupid, stupid love. Now he didn't legally own anything except for the car he'd gotten from his parents before he came out. Technically, he'd even stolen the clothes he was wearing. It didn't help either that his partner was a lawyer. He'd use his knowledge of the loopholes of the law to let Jackson know that there was no hope of escape; he'd made Jackson into a possession. Now Jackson had no friends, owned nothing, and was running out of gas. Stupid, stupid Jackson. The tears that had been welling up in his eyes since he'd calmed down from the endorphin rush finally spilled from his eyes. They were hot and salty, making his eyes sting and his vision blur. If he could've seen this pathetic scene in high school, he wouldn't have believed it to be possible. Frustrated, Jackson hit the steering wheel. It felt good to release some aggression. He hit it again. And again. And-

The night air felt cold, especially on Jackson's forehead. Lifting his head, he touched where it felt as if the cold air was freezing his skin. His fingers came back sticky with drying blood. Suddenly, his breathing sped up, his lungs constricting. Blood. Jackson scrambled to reach down to the floor of the car, where his cell phone had landed. He picked it up, his fingers flying over the numbers 9-1-1.

"911, what's your emergency?" a voice asked after only one ring.

"Uh, I'm- I'm bleeding. There's blood. And I think I crashed my car. Yeah. I'm... I'm not positive where I am at the moment," Jackson said, his head steadying as he no longer looked at the blood on his hand. Blood had always been a problem for him.

"We can track your coordinates with your cell phone, are you in the area of Beacon Hills, California?" the voice asked.

"Yeah," Jackson said, looking around at his car. He'd really crashed it; there was a tree only a few inches away from his face, the hood of his Porsche wrapped around it.

"Emergency vehicles are on their way," the voice said.

"Thanks," Jackson said, looking at the car. The airbags had deployed, and there was white dust and glass all over everything. Jackson could already tell that he wasn't going to be able to fix his car. His one earthly possession was totaled.

After only a few minutes, an ambulance and a firetruck pulled up behind him, lights and sirens blaring. He opened the door, realizing that he was still sitting in a potentially dangerous car. Three men rushed to assist him.

"Are you okay?" one of the paramedics asked, taking him by the shoulder and leading him around to the back of the truck.

"Yeah, I think so," Jackson said, looking into the man's eyes. They were deep and dark, filled with compassion and love. Jackson sat inside of the ambulance as the other paramedic rushed over to help. The firefighter examined the car.

"I've got this, Isaac, thanks," the paramedic with the dark eyes said to the other one. The man who was apparently Isaac walked around to the other side of the truck, seemingly distraught.

The man with the dark eyes ran a series of tests on Jackson, checking to see if he had a concussion and cleaning up the cut on his forehead. As he did so, Jackson managed to overhear a conversation on the other side of the ambulance. "Damn drunk drivers," Isaac said. "We couldn't even get one damn night alone."

"It's alright, we both knew we were on call," another voice said, presumably the firefighter. "The car is fine, so I should be able to go soon. I'll get someone else to clean it up sometime tonight. A tow truck won't be able to get here until tomorrow anyway, 'cause it's holiday."

"I know, Danny," Isaac whined, "but I wanted to have a night with you. I'm not gonna be able to leave for a while, especially if he's drunk."

The man with the dark eyes, looked at Jackson apologetically. "I'm not drunk," Jackson said, unsure of what else would be appropriate.

"You will need to call someone, though, we can't get a tow truck out until tomorrow," the paramedic said.

"Fuck," Jackson said, almost muttering under his breath. With no friends and now no partner, there's not much he could do.

The paramedic seemed to understand. He leaned over to the side, looking at the pair in conversation. "Hey, Isaac, why don't you go with the fire engine? My shift is over soon anyway," he called.

Isaac smiled. "Thanks," he said, walking with the firefighter Danny past the pair. Jackson saw them holding hands, smiling as they went back to what was apparently their date night.

The paramedic brought Jackson into the front seat, giving him a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "If anyone asks, I didn't do this for you," the paramedic said, smiling. "By the way, I'm Scott."

"Oh, my name's Jackson," he replied, curling into the blanket. The coldness of the night was finally settling into him, especially since he was only wearing his underwear and a tank top. Suddenly, that embarrassing fact hit him, making the situation just that much worse.

"So, Jackson, where to?" Scott asked, turning the engine on.

Jackson opened his mouth, ready to spit out his address. Then he realized that this wasn't his address anymore. He didn't have any friends to stay with either. His parents had disowned him, and he was pretty sure that they had moved. The rest of his family lived far away. His breath caught in his throat, and tears came out of his eyes once again.

"Uhm, okay," Scott said, making Jackson feel even worse for putting the nice man in this awkward situation. "Do you wanna...talk about it? I'll take you to the hospital for now, since I have to drop off the truck anyway."

As Scott drove slowly down the empty roads, he listened as Jackson opened up about his problems for the first time. He started all the way back from when he and his boyfriend met, and told him every painful circumstance that had led up to him being stranded in the middle of nowhere, homeless and nearly naked. Scott was a wonderful listener, only offering commentary where appropriate, and seemingly able to empathize with everything Jackson said. By the end, Jackson felt tired and spent, yet somehow liberated. They pulled into the parking lot, and sat in silence for a moment, allowing the moment to sink in.

"Well, you wait here for a minute and I'll go clock out," Scott said, jumping out of the truck and walking into the glass doors of the hospital. As he sat, Jackson wondered what would happen to him now. Scott came back, opening the door for his bedraggled counterpart. "Would it be alright if you came home with me? Just until you can get things sorted out?"

Jackson felt like crying again as he stepped out, onto the asphalt. Nobody had ever shown him so much kindness before, especially not a stranger. He nodded, fearing that speaking would make him burst into hysterical tears. Jackson stepped lightly as he crossed the pavement in his bare feet, following Scott to his car.

They got in, Jackson shivering from the chilly night. Scott reached into the back seat, producing a fleece jacket for Jackson to wear. He gratefully put it on, having left the blanket in the ambulance. Curling up into a ball, he looked bitterly out of the window. He didn't like that he had to rely on someone else to help him; a stranger. It was sort of ironic, that early in his life, he managed to be so independent. Now he could barely walk on his own. One bad relationship had managed to cripple him.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Scott asked, turning the car on but not moving. Jackson nodded, keeping his eyes on the window. He looked at his reflection in the glass, seeing a helpless, pathetic little boy with a bandaged head looking back at him. "I just... I can't believe someone would do that. I mean, to you. A smart, cute guy like you should never be treated like that. I mean, I don't mean cute like... I mean..."

Jackson slowly turned his head, turning to look at Scott. He tried to raise an eyebrow, but it made the cut on his forehead sting. He resolved to just look at the man. Scott's face had turned red, and he bit his lip and tried not to smile as he put the car in reverse, trying to turn his attention to driving. There was a long moment of silence as they made their way out of the parking lot, only interrupted by the clicking of the turn signal.

"Yeah, alright, I'm into guys, I guess. Guys like you, I guess," Scott said, steadily focusing on the road and trying to contain his facial expression, since he knew Jackson was staring at him. "If you want, I'd be happy to put you up in a hotel for a while instead. I just thought my house would be cheaper, but I'm realizing how creepy that sounds, and..."

Jackson smiled weakly, accenting the dark circles under his eyes and the tired lines in his face. "Your place sounds fine, I really don't mind," Jackson said. He fought off thoughts of living with this handsome man, and loving him. Love rarely brought anything more than pain. But staying with another human being for a while, especially someone so caring and loving, seemed like exactly what Jackson needed.

They only shared a few words between that point and Scott's apartment. When they finally pulled in, Jackson was impressed. He wasn't aware how much money someone could make as a paramedic, since the building seemed fairly decent. It was in a good location downtown, and the building itself seemed like the perfect mixture of stylish yet aged. It had character, but it wasn't super-modern nor chic.

Jackson's cheeks burned red as they crossed the lobby into the elevator. A few people, still dotted about the lobby even so late at night, stared as their neighbor walked through with a man wearing a thin pair of underwear and a fleece jacket. Scott seemed to act as if it happened all the time. Jackson began wondering just how often such an event actually occurred. Did Scott bring a lot of men home? It struck Jackson that he was about to move in (albeit temporarily) with a complete stranger.

They got into the elevator, and scenes of grisly murders from American Psycho filled his head. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Still, he'd come this far with no better option. He would deal with any murderous tendencies as they came up. In the meantime, he would be a gracious guest.

The apartment itself was quite stylish. It was a little loft, with high ceilings, large windows, and hardwood floors. The furniture was tasteful yet functional, combining looks with comfort. Overall, it was quite impressive. Yet something was missing. As Scott gave Jackson a quick tour, he tried to find the word for how it felt off. Something about it was just off-putting. He looked at all of the expensive furniture, the expressive and personal decorations, the well-read books, trying to figure out what seemed off.

"So, overall, it's a pretty nice place," Scott concluded. "But I work pretty weird hours, so I don't usually get to have people over all that often. In fact, I'm hardly ever here."

Sterile. Jackson found the word. The place was sterile, like it had been carefully arranged, but then never lived in. It lacked what his mother would have called "a woman's touch", working off of antiquated ideas of gender and relationship dynamics. It made Jackson a bit sad, to realize all of the work Scott probably put into his house to make it nice, only to inhabit it as a guest. It needed love.

"Would you like a drink?" Scott asked, heading toward the kitchen. Jackson followed, folding his arms. Normally, he would've declined, but considering the night's circumstances, a drink seemed in order. Scott mixed up a gin and tonic from an old-fashioned minibar setup. He noticed Jackson eying the crystal tumblers and decanters curiously. "They were my dad's. It's kind of one of those things that reminds me of him."

Jackson nodded acceptingly as he took the drink from Scott, deciding that it was the only piece in the loft that actually felt like it had love in it. Scott disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes, coming back out with some clothes. He told Jackson to make himself at home in the bedroom and get changed while he took a shower. Of course, Jackson declined the offer to take the bed, meaning that Scott would end up on his couch, but the man vehemently insisted that after what Jackson had been through, he needed a bed much more. Jackson let the issue go when he realized that Scott wasn't going to yield.

As Scott went into the bedroom, Jackson went into the bedroom, looking at the pile of clothes tossed onto the bed. There was a large blue t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and a pair of bright red boxer-briefs. Happy to change out of the dingy clothes he'd been wearing all night, including in the car crash, Jackson quickly stripped. It felt strange, being naked in a total stranger's house. He slipped into Scott's clothes as fast as he could manage, folding his and leaving them on the bed.

He went back into the living room, sitting on the couch as he surveyed the place. He eyed the door into the bathroom. There was one door from the living room and one from the bedroom. Jackson heard the shower going, and suddenly he realized that the attractive paramedic was naked only a few feet away. Chastising himself, he tried to remember that Scott was a very nice man, not to be objectified. Furthermore, he couldn't bear to fall in love again. But really, it wasn't falling in love, it was just a little peek. Really, with a physique like the one Scott seemed to have under his uniform, it was more like admiring art. He was basically a modern-day David, having slain his ex, Goliath. Still, he knew that it would be rude to snoop... unless the door was unlocked, in which case it was really just exploration.

Jackson couldn't help himself. Tiptoeing across the hardwood floors, he gently turned the knob on the door, grateful that the man living alone wasn't used to locking it. He had no plan for what to do if he got caught, but he couldn't help himself. Scott stood with his back to Jackson, inside of a clear glass shower. There was only a little fog on the glass at this point, so he could see the man's form pretty clearly.

His shoulders were broad and tan, with thick biceps that flexed when he reached up to shampoo his hair. He had hard obliques on either side of him, leading down to a narrow waist. A perfect bubble butt stuck out from his hips, jiggling slightly every time he moved to wash a different part of his body. His legs were thick and tanned, with dark, dry hair still standing out before he got a chance to rub them with soap. As steam filled the room, Jackson's vision was obscured by the condensation collecting on the glass. He watched as it continued to build, savoring each second. Just as Scott popped out of view, Jackson watched him bend down to pick up the loofah he'd dropped, spreading his cheeks to show off a tight little hole before it disappeared into the mist.

Closing the door as silently as he'd opened it, Jackson smiled almost giddily to himself. It had been a long time since he'd cared about sex. His ex had generally used him when he wanted to get off. And even then, he still seemed to want to use someone else just to get off every now and then. He quietly sneaked back to the couch, lying down as he waited for Scott. The image of the man's beautiful frame filled his head as he drifted off to sleep.

Scott smiled as he found Jackson lying on his couch, looking vulnerable and endearing while curled up and asleep. His face was totally relaxed, making his smooth, pale skin more heavenly and iridescent. He came close and kneeled on the floor next to the man, looking into his sideways-turned face. Scott shivered slightly at the cool floor beneath him, making a mental note to grab some clothes while he brought Jackson to bed. At the moment, he was only wearing a white towel and a mop of wet hair. Looking at Jackson's peaceful face, he wished he could be inside of the boy's dreams. He wished he could erase all of the pain he'd felt, instead showing him the love he needed and deserved.

"Jackson," he whispered softly, gently touching the man's face. He saw the his eyes flicker slightly beneath his eyelids, his gentle, peaceful face contorting slightly. "Jackson."

Jackson's eyes opened slightly, taking in the beautiful face in front of him. He felt like he'd died, and an angel was looking over him. "As long as you stay here," he mumbled, adjusting his shoulders slightly in his sleep, "hell might not be so bad."

"What? Jackson, you have to go to bed," Scott said, resting a hand on the man's hair. Jackson's eyes flickered open a little wider, and he came to his senses a little more. He managed to gather the wherewithal to stand up, using Scott's broad shoulder to help him. "There you go."

Together, they hobbled over to the bedroom, where Scott set him down on the bed. Jackson crawled in, instinctively only taking up a small portion of the right side. "It's friggin hot," Jackson said, still mostly asleep as he complained, pulling his shirt up to his chest. Scott noticed that the man was indeed sweating, though he didn't feel all that warm himself. All the same, he reached down, pulled Jackson's sweatpants down to his ankles. He hadn't noticed before, but the man really did have nice legs. Firm and pale, they looked strange coming out of Scott's own underwear. With the colorful thin, colorful underwear now covering his modesty, Scott noticed the impressive bulge that had been hidden inside his thicker black boxer-briefs. As Scott leaned over Jackson's body to fully remove the sweatpants, he could feel the heat of his groin radiating against his cool, damp skin.

He shivered, realizing how chilly he was. And how warm Jackson was. And how warm his skin must be. Shaking these thoughts from his head, Scott tended to Jackson's head wound, removing the gauze he'd taped there earlier. Inspecting the healing cut closer, he noticed that it seemed to be healing well, and that he probably-

Scott's thought process, as well as his entire sense of being, was interrupted by a sudden feeling of warmth on his lips. Jackson leaned up from the bed, kissing Scott on the mouth at an angle while the man inspected his wounds. A pale arm reached up and wrapped around Scott's neck, pulling his face in closer to the kiss.

Wrenching away from the tender embrace, Scott jumped back, wiping his lips. Jackson looked over at him, confused. "I'm so sorry," Scott said. "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't- Wait, did you just kiss me?"

Smiling, Jackson nodded. "I-I was hoping to find a way to thank you," Jackson said, his eyes sweeping up and down the towel-clad figure in front of him.

"You don't need to do that," Scott said, not wanting to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable place.

"I know I don't," Jackson said, sitting up. "That's the best part."

Scott smiled, closing the space between the two once again. Before he could lean down to resume the kiss, Jackson reached out, undoing the little knot holding his towel around his waist. The terrycloth dropped to the floor, fully revealing his Adonis body underneath. Jackson spent a while, looking up and down his perfect figure. Every inch of his taut skin was tanned and muscled. His chest was smooth and hairless, with perfect brown skin running down to his abs. He had a full bush of pubic hair, seemingly only occasionally cut for length. Jackson imagined Scott getting out of the shower in the morning, looking down at his wild bush and thinking that he should shave it, then looking at the clock and realizing he didn't have time. His soft, uncut cock was almost as long as his low-hanging balls, the tip just reaching above where his ballsack ended. Looking back up into the man's dark eyes, he found Scott smiling down as Jackson appreciated his body.

He leaned down, kissing Jackson again. Jackson guided the man's lean frame down onto the bed next to him, and they lay next to each other, Scott's cool skin being warmed by Jackson's hot, pale flesh. As they kissed, Scott slowly started removing Jackson's clothes, too, working his shirt and underwear off while they maintained lip contact. Scott pressed their hard bodies together, his tanned skin pressing against Jackson's pale ivory. His hands roamed Jackson's back, feeling his warm skin. Jackson's hands rubbed against Scott's growing erection between them, enticing it to full length. It was really big; much larger than he'd anticipated, or dared to hope.

Jackson pulled back, instinctively flipping onto his back once his partner was hard. He spread his legs high in the air, displaying his hairless hole and genitals. Scott sat up onto his knees, grabbing his dick by the base and preparing to fuck the man. He caught sight of his face, however, and detected a hint of submissiveness in it. His eyes betrayed the fact that he'd been trained to do this for his ex boyfriend.

"Have you ever considered...topping?" Scott asked.

"I've never really... I mean, if I had the chance, I guess it might..." Jackson stopped and looked thoughtful for a minute, letting his legs drop as he tried to comprehend the words. Suddenly, Scott flopped down on the bed next to him, scooting over to the edge and happily spreading his hairy thighs as he showed off his hole. A bit confused, Jackson slid off of the bed, turning to face Scott's hole. There was hair around it, like a pair of dark parenthesis, and the hole itself looked tight. Jackson poked it with a curious finger, feeling its warmth and wetness. It puckered a little bit at the contact, and Scott's hand wandered down to his thick cock. He stroked himself as the pale man continued playing with his hole with one hand, playing with himself with the other.

Once he was fully hard, he took his finger out of Scott, lining the head of his hairless, cut six inches up with the tight little hole. Slowly, he started to push his pelvis forward, pressing the head of his dick against the hairy asshole. With a devilish grin, Scott impatiently wrapped his hairy calves around Jackson's pelvis, drawing him forward until he was balls deep in his ass. Scott moaned as he unwrapped his legs, holding on to his thighs. His cock jerked in his hand as Jackson skimmed across his prostate. Likewise, Jackson moaned, leaning over and resting his hands on Scott's thin hips as he moaned in a pleasure previously unknown to him.

Righting himself, Jackson tried to remember what his ex used to do. Realizing that wasn't a great model, he instead went with what felt natural. Scott guided him along his first time topping, giving him subtle signs of encouragement when he did something right. Jackson slowly worked his hips in and out, getting a feel for it. At first, it was a bit confusing. He didn't want to hurt Scott, so he tried not to move too fast. As he picked up a little speed, Scott seemed to react positively, smiling and grabbing his huge cock. Jackson started thrusting in and out a bit faster, getting a feel for what made Scott jerk himself off faster. He thought he could feel the man's prostate, and he tried to aim for that. It was easy to tell when he hit it from Scott's moans and his sphincter's contractions.

Jackson had never realized how much pleasure this could be. Thus far, sex had generally been something more like a payment, always very rough. His ex generally just used him to get off. But making love was so much different. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had sex with someone while looking them in the face. It was impossible not to smile while he was doing it, his eyes transfixed knowingly and seductively on Scott's.

He noticed a change in Scott after a little while. The man stopped smiling, his breathing coming less regularly as he seemed almost distracted. His muscles tensed every time Jackson pushed into him, making his tanned figure even more attractive. He jerked his cock with more vigor, his toes curling on either side of Jackson. Suddenly, after hitting his prostate, Scott moaned much more loudly than he had before, closing his eyes and slowing the pace of his hand down. Cum squirted out onto his chest, a good-sized load hitting him on the face as well as he squeezed out several shots of jizz. As Jackson pounded his tight hole, Scott began to relax, a gentle smile on his face as he let his cock flop down onto his stomach, the wet tip resting just above his navel.

"Wow," Jackson said as Scott rested his head down onto the bed, letting Jackson's hips gently rock him. "I don't think I've ever cum while bottoming before."

Scott's eyebrows raised. "You do know that... you're supposed to, right?" Scott asked, keeping his eyes closed as he brought his thick arms up to rest his hands under his head, displaying his hairy pits and thick biceps.

"Really?" Jackson replied, almost feeling sad. He erased the feeling from his mind, focusing on the love of this situation and the hot hole around his dick.

"Pretty much every time you have sex," Scott said. "From now on, at least."

Jackson started pumping with renewed vigor, the possibilities of his life without his ex seeming endless now. He grabbed Scott's knees, making the boy open one eye in surprise as he felt his ass getting fucked even harder and more exuberantly now. Jackson squeezed the man's kneess, feeling pleasure roll through his body. Unsure of whether or not to pull out, Jackson slowed his thrusts. Scott wrapped his legs around the man once more, and he shot his wad inside of the boy. His entire body stiffened with pleasure as he squeezed the biggest load he'd ever made inside of the man. Scott opened his eyes, smiling widely. Sitting up, jizz rolled down his chest as he kissed Jackson, smearing the bit on his face between them.

Jackson's body went limp, lying down next to his lover as the pure ecstasy wore off, leaving a warm and comforting afterglow. He looked into Scott's eyes, and for the first time in his life, he noticed that Scott was already looking at him. He'd looked at people who were looking at him before, of course, but for the first time, he actually noticed that Scott's beautiful eyes were taking in Jackson's image, reflecting the exact same love that the man was feeling for Scott.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning, Jackson awoke in Scott's bed. A moment of confusion and panic swept through him as he tried to remember where he was. As the memory of the previous night settled into his mind, Jackson rested his head on the pillow, looking around. Everything seemed different in the morning light. The fear and panic of the previous night was gone. Somehow, without darkness closing in around him, Jackson felt like his new life could begin in earnest. The presence of a visible outside world legitimized it.

Flipping onto his back, Jackson looked at the room. It looked open and airy with the morning sun streaming through the windows. He was wearing clothes he'd never seen before, and even his skin smelled different. It smelled like the sweet body wash he and Scott used on each other while taking a shower after their encounter the night before. They'd had sex in the shower, too. In fact, they'd made love three more times that night before falling asleep together. Most mornings, after having sex, Jackson usually didn't like to think about it. It was more like a painful memory, which he wanted to forget in hopes that it wouldn't happen again. But this time, he wanted every beautiful second to be etched into his brain.

Suddenly, it struck him: he was alone. Scott was gone, probably at work or something. He'd left without even waking Jackson. He didn't even want to say good bye. Jackson realized then that everything was different: he'd have to find a job, a place to live, and some of his own stuff. Of course the random paramedic he'd hooked up with wasn't going to let him live there forever. It was above and beyond the call of decency to let him even stay one night. Even if they'd had great sex, this wasn't his world. Nothing was ever so easy for him. Why had he even let himself-

Just as bitterness started to work its way back under Jackson's skin, the door opened suddenly. He was greeted by a muscular back and a pair of cotton pajama bottoms clinging tightly to a firm ass. Scott backed slowly into the room before turning around, carrying a tray. He set it down on the bed next to Jackson, sitting down so that he was facing the food and the man. "I didn't know if you usually drank coffee or tea so I brought you both," Scott said casually, nudging the two cups in front of him. There was a veritable feast on the tray between the two, with a mug of coffee and a mug of tea in front of Jackson, and a cup of tea in front of Scott. The man picked up a fork, starting to dig into the eggs. "I wasn't sure what you eat, so I made a bunch of eggs and some waffles and bacon. There's also some grapefruit and- well, you can see for yourself."

It was almost disarming to Jackson, how casually nice Scott was being, as if it were nothing special. He picked up a piece of toast, nibbling on it. "Listen, I know I'm kind of being a burden. I don't know how long it'll be until I can find a place, but I can manage to find somewhere until I get a job if you need me to. I'll understand," Jackson said, avoiding Scott's eyes.

Scott stopped eating for a moment, resting his head on his hands and staring at the boy. "When are you gonna get it? You can leave whenever you want, if that's what you want. I'll give you money if you need it, and I can help you find work. But I'd really like it if you'd stay. I think I might just love you," Scott said, smiling.

Jackson looked up from the bread, his eyes unbelieving. Before him sat an angel. Morning light made his skin look warm and luminous as he happily stared across the tray of steaming breakfast. Jackson felt full to bursting, unsure of how to ever express his gratitude to the man. He was perfect in every way. Somehow, something in his mind told him exactly what would make Scott understand how happy he felt. Leaning over the tray, Jackson planted his lips on Scott, tasting the man's mouth and the maple syrup he'd been eating, making his lips sweet and slightly sticky. "I love you, too," Jackson said as they pulled apart, the sun rising outside of the window to start a new day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dental! Sterek

Stiles looked down at his patient with apprehension. The man wasn't paying particular attention to him, with his eyes closed against the bright examination light. Laying on the reclining dental chair, the man was totally at rest. His built chest heaved slightly up and down under his red tank top, the swirling patterns of his hair visible between the arm straps; as a body building tank top, it did a fairly poor job of providing much coverage for his chest at all, in fact. His short black basketball shorts showed off an impressive bulge, and matched his black converse. Hairy, thick legs filled the space between the two, and Stiles found himself wanting to follow his thighs further up, into his shorts.

"Uhm, is something wrong?" Derek asked, peeking an eye open and looking at the dumbstruck dental hygienist.

"Oh, right, sorry, no, nope, nothing," Stiles said, smiling. "Uhm, I'm Stiles, I'll be your hygienist today. We apologize for the wait, but the dentist is really busy today."  
"No problem," Derek said, though his voice wasn't quite so casual. "I'm hardly excited to be here anyway."

"No need to be nervous," Stiles said, rolling his little stool over to the man and slipping his face mask over his mouth. "Now open wide."

Peering into the man's mouth, Stiles used his tools to poke and prod the man's teeth. He was somewhat impressed with how well-maintained they were. At the same time, the fact that he was touching the hot man's saliva, and intruding his mouth with his fingers was not lost on Stiles. He couldn't help wondering if there had ever been a cock between his warm, soft lips. Deep down, he truly hoped there had been at some point.

Bringing his head back to the task at hand, Stiles removed his fingers, setting his tools back on the tray and snapping his gloves off. "Alright, no worries. Everything looks to be fine," Stiles said with a smile, turning of the glaring light over the man's head. He could now see his face better. His defined jaw was covered with dark stubble, and he had piercing eyes; dark circles separated the whites of his eyes from a mixture of dark green and brown, making his gaze intense yet distant.

"I've been trying a new whitening toothpaste, but I don't think it's working," Derek said, snapping the boy's attention back. Stiles found himself worrying about how long he'd been staring into his patient's eyes.

"Oh, uhm, yeah. Do you drink coffee?" Stiles asked, trying to focus his eyes elsewhere while still seeming attentive. Every inch of the man screamed for his attention, and eventually he had to settle on pretending to read Derek's chart.

"Yeah," Derek said, almost sounding guilty.

"Alright, well then I'd suggest maybe switching to green tea if you want to keep stains off of your teeth," Stiles said, daring for a moment to look up at the man. Derek's brow was slightly furrowed, and his lips slightly pursed. Even when he was unhappy, he looked like an idealistic Greek statue.

"Damn, that's the only thing that can get me up and working out in the morning," Derek said casually before shrugging and flashing his hygienist a smile. Stiles was fairly convinced that if it were physically possible for him to melt, he would have at that moment.

"Uh, well green tea also has a good amount of caffeine, though not quite as much as coffee. After a little while, your body should get used to it," Stiles said, venturing to look into the man's eyes. "I guess you'll just have to push yourself those first few days."

"Yeah," Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Stiles thought he saw a little blush before the man averted his eyes. "It just sucks because I like to go for a run before work every day. But it's so damn early."

"Maybe you could try exercising after work?" Stiles suggested, trying to be helpful.

"I already do that," Derek said with a chuckle. "That's when I usually go to the gym."

Stiles was surprised at the man's rigorous work out schedule, and made a mental note to get a gym membership. As Derek smoothed a hand through his hair, his exposed pec and bicep flexed to show off his muscle tone. He imagined Derek burning off calories in the morning and building muscle in the afternoon, working on his body. "That would explain a lot," Stiles mumbled to himself.

"Hm?" Derek asked, looking up at the boy with a smile playing on his lips. "What was that?"

"Oh, I... just asked what you do for a living," Stiles said, smiling quickly before looking down at the chart and pretending to write something down. In reality, he just scribbled angrily, ruminating about how idiotic he must seem to the gorgeous man.

"I write technical manuals," Derek replied, adjusting the position of his legs, Stiles managed to catch a glimpse of his muscular upper-thigh as he shuffled.

"Oh, I read technical manuals for a living," Stiles joked, thinking back to all of the new literature he has to read for every piece of equipment or new procedure. He realized how dumb that sounded, and immediately began chastising himself. Still, he couldn't help his mind from wondering if Derek happened to have had anything to do with something he's read.

"Yeah, it's decent work, but the hours can be really long and it can get stressful," Derek said, thought Stiles only half heard this as his eyes flickered to his hand, which was resting on his waistband with his thumb hooked slightly into it. Stiles imagined the man pushing his shorts down to his ankles and grabbing his dick with one hand, pushing Stiles' face into it with the other.

"Er- Oh! I need to take an x-ray," Stiles said, realizing that he'd been taking far too long with this one patient. Derek squirmed uncomfortably as Stiles got up, retrieving the lead apron from a compartment.

"I hate this part," Derek muttered as Stiles put the apron on him.

"Why is that?" Stiles asked as he got the equipment ready.

"The vest is always so heavy, it just kinda freaks me out. Like claustrophobia or something, y'know?" Derek said, his voiced betraying an edge of nervousness.

Stiles put the little piece of film between the man's perfect teeth. "Close your eyes," Stiles suggested as he started the procedure. "Imagine instead that you're lying with a loved one. Their body is pressed on top of yours, their eyes looking into yours, and the hot feeling of his breath on your neck. The look of absolute love on their face puts you at ease as the gentle weight of his body soothes you with its gentle weight. It's like a reminder that he's there for you, and he loves you. His face leans down towards yours and- You're done."

Derek's eyes shot open. He realized that the lead apron was already off of him, and Stiles at several spit-covered chips of film. He hadn't even noticed that Stiles was taking the pictures, he'd been so at ease while imagining the hygienist lying on top of him. Stiles pretended not to notice the lump that was quickly deflating in the man's lap after he took the apron off. Derek tried to surreptitiously cover it with his hands.

"Okay, let me hand these off so they can get developed at the lab real quick," Stiles said, handing the little squares off to another hygienist. "Alrighty, let's get started on the cleaning!"

As he rolled up closer to the man, he found his heart skipping a beat at the thought of getting close to his face once again. He'd gambled a bit with referring to the man's lover as a "he" while doing the relaxation technique, but he figured that it wouldn't have been too hard to pretend that it was a mistake. He was happy to have seen that Derek didn't correct him, however. By now, the man seemed to have talked himself back into a flaccid state.

While Stiles cleaned Derek's teeth, he couldn't help continually noticing things that he loved about him. First it was his stubble; it scratched pleasantly against his wrists and through his gloves. The little dark hairs jutted out from his perfectly chiseled jaw, spreading all over his face. He managed to keep them the perfect in-between length, so he didn't look homeless nor like hadn't shaved that day. His eyebrows were equally thick and dark. Bringing his mind back to the task at hand, Stiles focused on flossing his teeth.

Somehow, as he went through the usual routine, his mind got back onto the man in front of him. Leaning in close to brush the back teeth, Stiles could smell something almost spicy. He realized that it was probably Derek's shampoo. He leaned closer, his nose almost touching the man's hair as he inhaled the manly aroma. His face turned red as he brought his attention back to the teeth, hoping that his patient hadn't noticed any of that. Stiles tried to throw himself into his work, imagining the man as nothing but teeth. This illusion was shattered and Stiles' hopes of a professional pretense dashed when Derek adjusted slightly while Stiles put polish on the toothbrush. Now he was sitting with his head propped up by his arms, making his thick biceps bulge and his immodest shirt leaving his hairy armpits totally exposed. Stiles turned on the overhead light, blinding Derek while he polished the man's teeth. At this point, he barely tried to conceal his interest, openly gawking at the hairy pits. Once again, a scent caught his nose. Leaning in as he pretended to put more polish on the brush, Stiles inhaled, happy to find that the musky scent was indeed his armpits. Though it was probably actually from his deodorant, Stiles was content to tell himself that Derek naturally smelled like that.

"Alrighty," a voice called from outside of the room. Stiles snapped up straight when he heard it, managing to take his face out of the man's armpits just in time to avoid an awkward situation with Dr. McCall. "Ah, Stiles, almost done?"

"Yep," Stiles said cheerfully, polishing one last tooth before turning off the brush and the blinding light in Derek's face. He pulled his mask down, cleaning up while the dentist spoke.

"Okay...Derek, I've taken a look at your x-rays," he announced officiously, dropping the chart and hanging the clear pictures up on the halogen board. "You're pretty much fine, you've just got one little cavity between two of your teeth. It's just a surface cavity, but all the same, we should probably take care of it. In fact, Stiles, why don't you go ahead and get some practice?"

"Really?" Stiles asked, looking up hopefully at the crooked-faced dentist. He had been training for years, and had actually just recently managed to get his license. He was just working out his last few weeks until he could find somewhere to work as an actual dentist.

"Sure, I've got lots of patients and you could always use more experience. Just don't go stealing my patients once you leave us!" Dr. McCall said, smiling as he left the room.

"Okay," Stiles said, beaming as he went about setting up for the cavity filling.

"So you're going to be drilling me?" Derek asked nervously.

Stiles stifled a laugh, happy that a picture of him pounding the man's hole with his cock only filled his mind for a few brief moments. "Uh, yes, I'll have to fill in your cavity today. I promise it won't hurt at all, it's just on the surface," Stiles said reassuringly.

Derek bit his lip, still looking nervous. "I just really hate the sound, y'know? It gets to me, and I get all... nervous, I guess," Derek said, looking up at Stiles with big, frightened eyes.

"Alright, well if it's a problem for you, I can give you some laughing gas," Stiles suggested. "Are you going to be driving home?"

"No, I can walk from here," Derek said, looking grateful.

Stiles wheeled out the little tank, fixing the mask onto Derek's nose as he put it on a fairly low setting. Then, he opened the man's mouth, starting to fill his hole. The entire cavity-filling process took just over five minutes. Stiles actually managed to keep his mind on his work, proud that Dr. McCall trusted him enough to go outside of his job description. After everything was done, Stiles was happy to find that nothing had gone awry. He took the mask off of Derek, who had promptly fallen asleep, then took a step back to admire his handiwork. It looked like he hadn't even had anything done.

Then Stiles noticed the giant boner tenting Derek's shorts. It had managed to snake down his leg, pushing up out of his loose shorts so that it was basically totally exposed. Stiles turned a dark shade of red, embarrassed for the man. As he closed the door to the examination room, Stiles wondered why Derek had decided not to wear underwear. He felt his pulse rise as he turned back to look at the man. It was really a lot like several of the fantasies that had run through his head since the man had sat down in the chair. He was lying down, passed out and gorgeous with fairly little of his body covered between his body-building tank and the hard on making his shorts basically useless.

Stiles couldn't help staring at the man's cock. It was surprisingly big, just as Stiles had hoped and imagined. He was cut, with a thick shaft that tapered in the middle and a fat head. He could see a few stray hairs sticking out of the leg hole, and one of his balls was even almost visible. The majority of his hairy leg was visible too, since one leg of his shorts was now bunched around his dick. It was kind of surprising how hard the man had managed to get without any stimulation. Stiles figured that the best course of action would be to just wait for it to go down. A little voice in the back of his head suggested that sucking it would make it go down eventually, but Stiles managed to ignore it.

Still, he couldn't help rolling up to get a closer look. He knew that ideally he should just not look, waiting for him to wake up. But he figured that this opportunity didn't exactly come by that often. Up close, he could even smell the sweat and pheromones emanating from his member. He felt a strong compulsion to reach out and touch it. It looked warm, and it was pulsating slightly. A bead of precum was forming at the tip, and it showed no signs of going down. Making him cum would solve the problem...

"You can touch it," Derek said suddenly. Stiles jumped, managing to get to the other side of the room in under one second. He put his hands up, his face a mask of petrified fear. Derek looked back at him from the chair, stretching to look over at the hygienist. "I mean...if you want to."

"Oh, you're awake," Stiles managed to say, unable to think of anything else that would even border on being appropriate in this situation.

"Yeah, and I noticed you admiring my equipment," Derek said, his eyes glancing down to his cock, then over to the obvious tent in Stiles' blue scrubs. "So... you can touch it if you want. You seemed like you were enjoying it."  
"You just got out of anesthesia, I don't think you should-"

"That barely put me to sleep," Derek said. "You really didn't turn it up that much. Now are you going to leave me with this-" he gestured with his hand at the hard cock standing up from his pelvis "-after watching your cute little ass in those scrubs all day?" Stiles continued to gawk at the man, totally unsure of what to do. Suddenly, his desire took over, and his body seemed to move without any command from his brain.

Walking over, he stuck his tongue deep into the man's freshly cleaned mouth, his hand rubbing the hot, aching hard on between his legs. He tasted even better than Stiles had imagined. His free hand roamed over the man's chest, feeling the patterns of the chest hair lying flat against his hard pecs. Taking his mouth off Derek's, Stiles moved his lips down, over the stubble covered jaw, across his exposed, hard neck, through his chest hair, and onto his nipple. Pushing the little red straps of the tank top aside, he flicked the little brownish nub with his tongue, then gently ground it between his teeth. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the man's hands grip the arm rests tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Smiling, Stiles moved his mouth over as he lifted the man's arms up. Derek rested his head on top of his hands as Stiles' tongue moved over his exposed armpits. He inhaled the scent deeply, aroused by the musky, manly smell. "Fuck," he heard Derek mumble, "I should've put deodorant on today." Stiles' head swam with the natural smell, almost overjoyed at finding out that it was how his body smelled. His skin was salty with sweat, and the hairs tickled his tongue and nose.

Taking his mouth off of the sweaty pits, Stiles finally moved down to his cock. He instantly deep-throated the monster, unable to show any restraint now in the face of the thick member. Salty precum and sweat mixed in his mouth with the sweet, lingering taste of the man's mouth. Stroking his fingers along Derek's fat balls, Stiles pumped his head up and down the shaft. Derek moaned as he rested a wide hand on the back of the boy's head. His short hair scratched the man's fingers as he dutifully swallowed the dick.

Derek's hand reached up from the arm rest, blindly reaching until he made contact with Stiles' ass. He fondled the cheek for a moment before slipping his hand down between his hygienist's legs. "Wait!" he called out, and Stiles backed off of the dick, looking confused. Derek slipped his shorts off, making his cock bounce as he slipped them over his hard on. Then, taking hold of the arm rests, he slid forward, pushing his hairy legs high in the air as he went. He smiled at Stiles, looking between his legs and over his erection. "That cock is too damn big to pass up."

Stiles looked down at the large tent in his scrubs. It was a bit longer than Derek's, though nowhere near as fat. For a moment, he contemplatively took in the scene in front of him. Derek was sitting on his chair, with his pale legs spread wide to show off his hairy little hole. He had thick, hairless ass cheeks and a hairless hole. His cock and balls pulsated with his heartbeat as he smiled over at Stiles. A smile spread across his face as he closed the space between him and Derek. He quickly buried his face in the man's open ass cheeks, digging his tongue into the warm, wet hole. Derek let out a gasp of air as he felt his hole violated. The warm tongue teased the sensitive skin around his hole, and made his abs flex in an attempt to restrain his ecstasy when he felt a gentle prod on his prostate. The hygienist expertly used his tongue to lubricate the man's hole, covering him inside and out with saliva.

Pulling his tongue out, Stiles backed up slightly. For a moment, he admired his handiwork, happily watching the shiny little pucker wink in the sudden coldness. Derek's face looked as lovably pathetic as a puppy's; he was begging to be fucked. Always compliant, Stiles dropped the bottoms of his scrubs to the floor along with his black briefs, letting his long dick flop out into the open air. Derek's begging look grew even more desperate when he saw the giant, skinny dick bouncing tantalizingly in front of him, pointing out of a short dusting of pubes on his thin hips.

Grabbing the base, Stiles quickly lined the head of his eager cock up with the spit-covered asshole. Derek's toes, now hoisted high overhead, curled as the hygienist pushed the tip of his dick inside of him. Stiles quickly picked up the pace, managing to get a steady fucking rhythm within a few seconds. He didn't want to rush his experience with the man, but there was still always the possibility of someone walking in. The doors didn't have locks, and someone might start wondering what was taking so long, or come in to check. He reached his hands down, pushing the straps of the tank top to either side of his nipples so that he could play with them while he fucked the man.

Derek tried hard to stifle his moans, trying to keep from alerting anyone outside of the room. It was difficult to contain himself, though, with Stiles deep dicking him and hitting his prostate with every thrust, as well as the hands tweaking his nipples. His hard cock bobbed back and forth with Stiles' pushing and pulling, slapping both men in the abs. A little dab of precum was now staining Stiles' scrubs, as well as a matching stain on Derek's tank top. He raised his arms up above his head, grabbing his feet to better keep them up and showing off his hairy pits. Stiles breathed in the manly aroma of his sweat, his precum, his shampoo, and his pheromones.

Suddenly, Derek scooted forward, managing to flip their positions while keep Stiles' dick inside of him. Now Stiles was sitting on the chair, with Derek looking into his eyes while riding him cowboy style. One of his hairy pecs was still exposed, the strap of his tank top having ripped during their fucking. Now it hung like a toga, showing off the patterns of hair on his chest as well as the better part of his torso. His converse squeaked against the chair as he gyrated his hips on top of Stiles'. He jerked his cock, though he barely needed to give it any attention since his prostate was taking such a pounding. Stiles pounded harder and harder, his hands grasping the hips in front of him. His pace slowed to a few hard thrusts, his fingers gripping the man's skin as his cum filled the man's tight, firm ass. Those last few pushes against his prostate sent Derek over the edge as well, his cum spurting from his dick to cover Stiles' scrubs and face. Stiles had also opened his mouth to moan as he came, so Derek's seed landed on his tongue as well. The salty taste intoxicated Stiles, making him relish the thought that it had been inside of the man just a few moments earlier.

The pair sat still for a moment, their sweat cooling as their panting turned back into normal breathing. Stiles' cock deflated inside of Derek as the man's cock slumped down to rest on Stiles' shirt. Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. Making a mad scramble, the two quickly detached themselves, getting their clothes back on as quickly as possible.

"Is everything okay in here?" Dr. McCall asked as he walked in. The sweaty smell of sex had gratefully dissipated, and both had managed to get their pants on.

"Uhm, yup, I was just giving Derek here the final walk through," Stiles said, his smile beaming.

"Oh great, so everything went well?" the dentist asked.

"Yup, it went beautifully," Stiles said, with a sideways look at Derek.

"Wonderful," the doctor said, opening the door so they could both walk out. Stiles shuffled out after Derek. They both got an odd look from the dentist when he noticed that the man's shirt had been torn. They walked out into the waiting room, Stiles stifling a laugh and Derek nearly shirtless with his hygienist's cum dripping out of his shorts and down his leg. "Well, come and see us again soon!"

"Oh, I definitely will!" Derek said enthusiastically.

"Yeah," Stiles added as the man walked out of the door, "come back if you need another good drilling!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scisaac/Derek

Isaac slumped down onto Scott's shoulder. Smiling a bit to himself, he propped the drunken boy up, his eyes surveying the street in front of them. Isaac was wearing tight jeans and a black mesh shirt over a green tank top. Paired with Scott, clad in a band t-shirt that cut off just above his abs, low-riding red bondage pants, and a pair of thick platform boots, the two of them stood out quite a bit on the nearly empty street.

"Why the hell are we here?" Isaac asked, as if he were noticing his surroundings for the first time. "This place is lame."

"Because it was cheaper to meet the cab here than in front of the club," Scott answered, trying not to sound annoyed. Isaac had gotten drunk so early in the night that Scott practically could have driven, since he spent more time keeping the boy under control than having any fun.

"Oh, okay," Isaac said sleepily, fighting to keep his head up. Despite his antics, Scott couldn't help loving Isaac. At least, in a platonic way. He'd never managed to work up the nerve to let his best friend know that he wanted more. He was worried about ruining what they had; a serious relationship might ruin their bond.

Scott shivered slightly. Despite the warm night, his midriff shirt still left his exposed skin feeling a little chilly. A man walked by behind them, and Scott defensively pulled Isaac in closer. This neighborhood wasn't exactly the greatest place to be. It was pretty quiet at the moment, but that made it even more sinister. His stomach dropped as the same man walked behind them again. It was perfectly reasonable that he'd gotten turned around and went the wrong way, Scott told himself. However, when he hesitated behind the pair, Scott got the feeling that things were turning out differently.

"Give me your wallets," the man said, trying to make his voice sound deeper to hide his nervousness.

Isaac turned around. "Oh, are you the cabbie?" Isaac asked, his blurry eyes struggling to take the man in.

"Just give me your fucking wallets!" the man said, brandishing a knife. "And your phones!" Isaac seemed to sober up enough to shut up at the sight of the weapon. Scott turned around, raising his hands in the air.

"Okay, just calm down," Scott said in an even tone. "I'm going to reach for our wallets now."

"Just fucking get them!" the man said, looking around the street.

Scared, Scott slowly reached into his pocket and took out his wallet and cell phone. He did the same for his drunken companion, handing them over to the man. Just as the hooded figure took the goods from his hand, they were bathed in headlights. The man ran off, scurrying away faster than Scott had ever seen someone go. The cab pulled up behind the pair.

"You Scott?" the man yelled out of his window as he rolled it down. The two men turned around to look at the cab, relief obvious in their faces.  
"Yeah," Scott said, smiling as he helped Isaac into his seat. He went around the other side, getting in next to his friend. "Could you take us to the police station?"

"What?" the cabbie asked, looking in his rear view mirror to eye the boys.

"We just got mugged, we need to tell the police," Scott said anxiously.

"Listen, I got instructions to go to East 54th street," the man said, his heavy eyebrow lifting in an unsure motion.

"Okay, but we were just mugged, so we need to go to the police station instead," Scott said with waning patience.

"I got my instructions. I have to take you two to where the directions say. Or I get fired," the man said, his patience seeming to wear thin as well.

"Scott, just let him take us to home, then we can go to police, mmmmmkay?" Isaac slurred, seeming to be somewhat more sober now, since he could formulate sentences.

"Ugh, fine," Scott said, turning to look out of the window. The cabbie, satisfied, started to drive off.

They were silent for a few moments. "I'm Derek, by the way," the cabbie piped up.

"Oh," Scott said, still bristling about the illogical situation he seemed to have been placed in.

"You don't gotta be rude about it," Derek said, focusing on the road. They spent a few more moments in silence. "So you guys look like you had a fun night."

Scott saw Derek's blue eyes taking in their strange wardrobe through the rear view mirror. "Yeah," Scott answered bitterly, "right up until we got mugged."

"It was pretty awesome, though," Isaac said sleepily, running a hand through his thick, curly hair.

"You're certainly dressed for a night out," Derek observed, ignoring Scott's snide quips. He saw the boy's eyes narrow in the rear view mirror. "I mean, you look cool. I like it."

"Thanks," Scott said. Another long period of time passed in silence. They were pretty close to their destination when Derek spoke up again.

"So you guys got mugged?" he asked.

"Yeah," Scott responded, the anger and bitterness clear in his voice.

"And they took your wallets?" Derek asked.

"Yeah."

"With all of your cash?"

"Yeah."

"So, basically, you guys don't have any money."

"Pretty much," Scott said, annoyed at this point. Then Derek's implication hit him: they were going to have to pay. "I mean..."

"So how are you planning on paying?" Derek asked.

"I hadn't really... I mean, if you'd just take us to the police station, I'm sure-"

"No, I can't, I told you that. But you guys have run up like twenty bucks already," Derek said, his voice getting stern. Suddenly, Scott wished he'd been nicer to the man.

"Well what are we supposed to do?" Scott asked, exasperated. Isaac looked back and forth between the two of them, worried but not quite able to fully comprehend the situation due to his intoxication.

Derek pulled over, parking in a vacant parking lot. "Well I'm not wasting any more gas til we figure this out," Derek said, turning around so that they could get a good look at his face for the first time. He was rough and cut, with stubble and powerful, masculine features.

"Well we don't have anything to give you, he took our phones and our wallets," Scott said. "We don't have anything but the clothes on our backs."

Derek's eyes looked them up and down, analyzing their clothes. Scott suddenly felt quite conscious of how short his shirt was in comparison to how low his pants were, exposing his tanned abs and more of his hips than he'd realized throughout the night. In fact, looking down, he realized that some of his pubic hair was visible just at the waistline of his pants. "They are... nice clothes," Derek said deviously.

"What?" Scott asked, scared. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing," Derek said, a smirk on his defined jaw. "Just saying that your clothes are awful nice. Probably not cheap. Probably...worth something."

"Waaaait!" Isaac wailed, making both men turn to him in alarm. "I've got it. Why don't we...instead of money...give you... our clothes."

Derek's menacing grin brightened as he stifled a laugh. "That sounds like a wonderful idea that you came up with!" he said, his smile toothy like a shark's. Scott fought the urge to smack his best friend in the head, wanting to wipe the stupidly proud look off of the drunken boy's face.

"I don't think that's a great idea..." Scott said curtly.

"C'moooon," Isaac slurred, already taking off his mesh overshirt.

"Yeah, c'mon, you don't have much of a choice," Derek said, taking the black mesh from the curly haired boy. "This shirt is worth about... two dollars I'd say."

Scott rolled his eyes. He figured that he didn't really have much of a choice. He didn't want to leave the cab and walk home, after having just gotten mugged once before that night. And nobody would see them, so he figured it couldn't do much harm except to excite the pervy cab driver and get them a free ride.

"That makes thirty more, Scott," Isaac said, looking as if he were discussing a serious plan with his friend. Heaving a heavy sigh, Scott slipped off his cut off t-shirt, figuring that it was barely doing him any good anyway. Exposed from the waist up, Scott wished Derek's eyes would get off of his body. Yet something about the man was feral, and Scott somehow felt happy to show his thick bronzed pecs and brown little nipples to this animal side of the man.

"Mmkay, it's only half a shirt, so I'm gonna say one dollar," Derek commented, happy to get the surly man in a slightly more vulnerable position as he put the shirt in the seat beside him. Turning his torso to get a better view, Derek looked between the pair expectantly. Isaac wrestled with his green tank top, and Scott helped him out of it, handing it over to the driver. Now Isaac's puffy pale chest and puffy pink nipples were exposed.

"Right, let's say that's about two more dollars. So you're up to five," Derek declared. Scott removed his thick platform shoes, feeling the cold cab floor beneath his naked, tanned feet. Handing them over, he noticed that Isaac had also taken that step, giving the cabbie his black converse. "Hmm, these are some pretty impressive platforms... Ten dollars for the lot."

"What?" Scott exclaimed. "Those are clearly worth more than ten dollars. It's two pairs of shoes!"

"Worn shoes," Derek corrected, his temper even as he bargained. His eyes swept over the two pairs of naked feet on his cab floor. "And apparently neither previous owner bothered to preserve their worth by wearing socks."

"Mmkay," Isaac said, casually undoing the button on his jeans and trying without much success to get the tight pants off of his hairy, pale legs. Turning sideways, he plopped his ankles on Scott's lap, unceremoniously demanding help. With a wary look at the perverted cab driver, Scott helped to wriggle the tight black denim down off of the boy's legs, exposing the blonde leg hair on his lean thighs. Now only his clingy grey cotton briefs covered his modesty, giving a clear outline of his bulge to the cab driver.

Derek's eyes didn't leave Isaac's legs for a long moment, finally broken by Scott shoving the tight jeans into his hands. "Erm, three dollars," Derek said, tossing the pants in the seat next to him.

"Oop, still need more," Isaac said, hooking his thumbs into his waisband.

"Oh no you don't," Scott said, gently but forcefully removing his friend's hands from his underwear. Shoving the boy from his lap, Scott unbuttoned his own wide-legged pants. He pushed them quickly down his legs, trying not to give the man a show, shoving them into the cabbie's eager hands. This time, Derek's concentration wasn't even broken by the pants being tossed into his hands. He stared fixedly on the form in front of him, his mouth slightly agape as he took in the muscled, tanned body dotted with dustings of dark hair. Scott blushed as he saw the feral, animal side of the cabbie fully realize in his eyes while drinking him in, clad only in a sporty black thong. "Well, how much?"

Derek's eyes stayed trained on the body in front of him. "Uhm, three dollars," he said absentmindedly, putting the pants on the pile.

"Great, now we're all squared away. You can take us home," Scott said, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest self-consciously.

"Yeah-er no," Derek said, his concentration finally back on the moment at hand when he realized that he had the boys by the balls, so to speak. "You're free to leave now. You still have to pay for the rest of the trip."

Scott looked away from the man's cruel smile, taking in the unfriendly neighborhood. He wondered if it would be possible to run fast enough to get home before getting killed or raped. The chances seemed slim. Scott huffed heartily. "Fine, you win. Two pairs of underwear covers the rest of the trip," Scott said, looking squarely into the man's elated eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Derek said, trying to keep his cool, detached position of power. It was difficult, however, not to let his jaw drop and start drooling.

Isaac went first again, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of he grey briefs. Scott figured that the form-fitting cotton wasn't doing the boy a whole lot of good anyway. They all watched the briefs slide down his long, lean legs, exposing a thick mass of curls above his soft, pale, uncut cock. It lolled to the side, now free from its confines, giving a better view of his hairy sack. He kicked them off of his feet, allowing both men a chance to admire his nude glory as he slid his hands behind his head to let the curls in his armpits free. After a long night of dancing and sweating, the scent of his naked body filled the small car, driving Derek and Scott mad with lust as they inhaled the pheromone-laden musk.

"You gonna take these?" Isaac asked, casually lifting his feet back up to rest on Scott's knees. Derek looked down and realized that the boy was holding his underwear out for collection. Gulping hard, Derek nodded, taking the briefs and putting them on top of the pile of clothes beside him. Meanwhile, Scott's eyes stayed trained on the dick languidly flopping out of the lightly-colored, curly pubes. Scott had caught a few glimpses of his best friend naked throughout the years, but this was the first time that he was allowed an unmitigated look at his cock. It looked as if it could have been carved from white marble; his entire body was a perfect shade of porcelain, as if he should be on display in an art museum. "So, Scott," he said, interrupting the man's appraisal, "you gonna go next or what?"

"Er, yeah, sorry, right," Scott said, wrenching his attention back to the task at hand. Derek looked at him hungrily, moving from his last conquest back to the hunt. Scott blushed, realizing that this situation may end up a bit awkward; in his admiration of his crush's body, Scott's cock had gotten hard.

Derek's eyes gleamed as he noticed the lump pulsating in Scott's lap. "Yeah," he added, "unless you wanna walk home, you gotta hand 'em over." Scott blushed even more deeply at the thought of walking the streets, alone, nearly naked, and hard now. He inhaled deeply, trying to focus on deflated his dick. This only made the problem worse, however, because he could smell nothing but the sweaty odor of his friend's body, making him even hornier. Resigning himself to his fate, he lifted his hips up and pulled the underwear down, first removing the strap from between his ass cheeks, then pulling the pouch down, letting his tanned cock slap his hard abs as he dropped them to his bare feet.

He avoided the gazes of the other two men, reaching down and blindly handing his thong over to Derek. His ignominy was multiplied by the fact that, in order to avoid both men's stares, he had to look down at his his own dripping hard on. The dark, cut head rubbed against his bellybutton as he measured his breathing, his low-hangers refusing to contract even in the embarrassing situation. Even he could smell the strong odor of precum wafting from his dick and combining with his own sweaty body as well as his friend's. The cab now reeked of sex.

Isaac sat up getting on all fours in the back seat so that he could lean in close to Scott's face. Derek enjoyed looking at his pale body with his ass stuck up in the air and his back bent, while Scott wrinkled his face at the smell of alcohol-breath in his face. "Scott," he drunkenly whispered. "Why is your dick hard?"

Turning his face toward the window, Scott bit his lip. He could see the scene behind him in the reflection on the window: Isaac's curly head was right behind his, the man's pale ass cheeks waving high in the air, and Derek was observing them both with an animal lust. "I dunno, I guess it's kinda because of... you?" Scott said, still watching the scene in the window. Isaac's big, doughy eyes got even wider as his sexy mouth turned downward contemplatively. Derek seemed to be not only enjoying the scene, but almost emotionally invested.

"Me?" Isaac asked, more to himself than Scott. He pointed a finger dangerously close to Scott's still raging erection, so close that Scott could feel the warmth of his hand. "You got that... because of me?"

"Yes, because of you, Isaac!" snapped Scott in reply, crossing his arms over his chest once more to cover the little brown nipples protruding from his thick pecs.

"So it's... my fault," Isaac stated. Scott watched his reflection shrug, then dip his head into Scott's lap. The tanned boy simply stared down in shock as he felt soft, warm lips wrap around his dick. His tongue swirled over the head, lapping up the cooling precum that had formed on it, then Isaac lowered down until the dick prodded the back of his throat and Scott's dark dusting of short-cropped pubes scratched against his nose.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked, looking down at the curly head of hair on his lap. Isaac mumbled in response, to drunk to realize Scott wouldn't be able to understand him while gargling the man's dick. Scott couldn't help a moan escaping his lips at the feeling of vibrations against his engulfed cock. Isaac started pumping up and down, getting a good rhythm going. Scott had gotten a few blowjobs before, but something about the combination of his long time crush, the unusually hot situation, and their observer made this feel unbelievable. He'd never experienced such ecstasy as when Isaac's lips slipped over the sensitive, tanned skin of his cock.

"Finger his ass," Derek said, making Scott look at him oddly. The muscular boy now noticed that their onlooker seemed to be quite enjoying their show. He'd unzipped his pants and pulled a long, thick cock out, stroking himself while watching the pair. Smiling, Scott slid a hand down Isaac's back, feeling his smooth, flawless skin. He settled on one of the boy's firm ass cheeks, giving it a little squeeze as he looked into Derek's hungry eyes. Slowly, his slid a finger up and down the boy's crack, tantalizing the voyeur. Finally, slipped a finger into the sweaty hole, easily sliding in. Derek jerked himself more fervently as Scott fingered his friend. Isaac contracted his hole in pleasure as Scott managed to find his prostate. Together, they pleasured each other for the enjoyment of their driver.

Eventually, Isaac came up for air, taking his mouth from the cock and jerking the impressive member with his hand while licking Scott's low-hanging nuts. As he did so, the muscular boy managed to lay down and slide between Isaac's legs, setting up a position to 69. His bare feet were pressed against the glass of the window as he lay on his back, staring at the pale dick swinging above him. Scott enjoyed the feeling of being even more exposed to his voyeur and his crush, his legs splayed in the air and opening his cheeks. The scent of his sweaty hole hit Isaac pungently, and he licked one of his fingers before slipping into the man beneath him. He put his mouth back on his cock, fingering him while giving him a blowjob.

Meanwhile, Scott's hard, tanned abs contracted for Derek's viewing pleasure as he leaned upwards to suck Isaac's cock. He eagerly wrapped his lips around the half-hard penis, his tongue darting into the foreskin and licking around to stimulate the head. It tasted better than most of the other cocks he'd had in his mouth before, soft and pleasantly damp with sweat. His hairy ballsack brushed against his nose as the member grew within his mouth. After a few quick deepthroats, Isaac's dick was at full glory. As he sucked and licked, Scott reached his long, brown fingers up to Isaac's puffy, pink nipples, tweaking and playing with them. Isaac moaned with joy as his sensitive nipples were stimulated. Scott moaned and his bronzed toes curled against the glass when Isaac managed to find his prostate.

Derek could barely believe how little provocation he'd needed to use in order to get the scene in front of him to unfold. Clearly there had been sexual tension between the two from the get-go. Now, two strangers were 69ing in the back of his cab. Scott's tanned, hard muscles provided the yin to Isaac's pale, lithe yang. The bronzed boy's hairy legs were splayed in the air, allowing Isaac's finger to slip into his ass while he swallowed the long dick. His abs were contracted and defined as he craned up to meet the fat cock protruding from Isaac's thick, full bush of light hair. His flat, pale stomach and smooth, flawless skin rippled as he moved in sync with Scott.

Having started first, Scott felt close to cumming. The finger pushing the jizz in his prostate as well as the lips sucking it out quickly proved too much for him. He lifted his hips high off of the seat, letting Derek see his perfect, tanned bubble butt as he shoved deep into a surprised Isaa'cs throat. With a few pelvic thrusts, Scott managed to shoot a thick wad into Isaac's throat. As his muscles contracted in ecstasy, Scott pulled harder on Isaac's nipples. This, paired with the sudden forcefulness of the cock being shoved down his throat sent Isaac over the edge. His hairy nuts contracted as he shot his load just onto Scott's lips. Most of his jizz managed to get into the boy's mouth, but a good bit dribbled from his plump lips. Slowly, they disentangled themselves from one another, the smell of jizz and fresh sweat filling the cab.

They looked at each other, realizing their job wasn't yet finished. Getting onto their knees on the cab floor, both boys looked squarely at Derek's thick, long dick. Taking the hint, the cabbie straddled the two front seats, giving the boys access to his member. Scott's full, jizz covered lips worked up and down the shaft while Isaac spent a moment fishing the man's balls out of his pants before swallowing them. They alternated between jobs, each giving a few good sucks on the man's cock before going on to lick his nuts. Bracing his hands against the headrests of either seat, Derek thrusted his hips back and forth, eager to meet each suck on his cock. Having already stroked himself, he came fairly quickly, shooting a load into Isaac's mouth. The boy dutifully swallowed the cum, proudly displaying his open mouth afterward.

They were are quiet for a moment. The two boys got back into their seats, their cocks quickly deflated. Derek stuffed his genitals into his pants, a satisfied smile on his face. "I guess I should take you boys home, huh?" he said.

"Well, we did pay," Scott reminded him with a jizz-covered smile.

They finished the ride to Scott and Isaac's shared residence, Derek finding a good place to stop less than a block from the apartment building. The sun had risen a while ago, and now the streets and sidewalks were fairly busy with morning traffic in the thriving city. "Alright boys, here you go, paid in full," Derek said with a wink in the rear-view mirror.

"Er- Derek?" Scott said, covering his junk as he looked out of the window at the passers by, who could see his naked body. "Could we have our clothes back?"

"But that was payment," Derek reminded him. "There's no free rides."

"I think we fairly compensated you," Isaac protested, thinking of the of the man's load of cum in his stomach.

"Oh, fine, I'll give you some of your clothes back," Derek said, acquiescing. He tossed the green tank top and cut-off band t-shirt back to the boys, which they gratefully put on. They sat still for a moment.

"Uh, Derek, the rest of our clothes?" Scott inquired.

"What about them?" Derek asked, arching a thick eyebrow.

"Well, we can't go out there in just shirts!" Scott said.

"I'm keeping the rest of your clothes, so I guess you're gonna have to. It's not a long walk," Derek said coolly. "And if you don't get out soon, I'm going to have to charge you those shirts, too."

The two boys looked at each other uneasily. Taking Derek's threat seriously, they both scooted out of Scott's side of the back seat. Isaac managed to pull the hem of the green tank top over his groin, gaining some modesty but pulling the back of the shirt up to expose his hard, pale cheeks. Scott's cut off shirt provided no modesty for anything below his nipples, completely exposing him to the crowd. Tightly wrapping his hands around his cock and balls, Scott and Isaac made a dash for their house, Scott's perfect bubble butt bouncing all the way. The throng of onlookers stared at the pair as they ran, their nearly-naked bodies totally on display. At one point, Scott tripped over his bare feet on the uneven pavement, and his hands flew out to balance himself. As a result, everyone who happened to be in front of him got a good look at his tanned, flaccid cock and his swinging low-hangers.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the pair ran up the steps, their naked feet slapping the stone. At the door, Isaac happily reached for the handle. He paused for a moment, looking back at his friend. "Uh, Scott?" he said, his face contorted.

"What? Hurry up, people are staring at my ass!" the boy replied with a self-conscious look around.

"Uhm, we left our keys in our pants... in the cab," Isaac said, a blank look of disbelief on his face. "With Derek." Both boys watched the yellow cab slowly drive past, the Derek's chiseled face grinning at them before speeding off down the road.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cop!Derek/Jackson

"Oh, fuck," Jackson said, glancing into the rear view mirror. His stomach dropped as he saw the car with the flashing red and blue lights pull over onto the side of the road with him. He'd barely even realized that he was breaking the speed limit; his Porsche rode so smooth that twenty and eighty practically felt the same.

He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, berating himself for having been so careless. There was nobody else on the little two-lane highway, which was one of the few perks of having a job that didn't let out until late at night. He heard a knock on the window, and lifted his head from the wheel as he rolled it down.

"License and registration, please," an authoritative voice commanded, shining a flashlight in his face as he shuffled through the papers in his dashboard. Jackson handed over the requested items, looking up at the officer. He was handsome and rugged, like something out of a uniform-kink porno. His name badge read "Officer Hale." "Do you know why I pulled you over, Mr. Whittemore?"

"Was I speeding?" Jackson asked, looking up into the man's eyes as he took the papers back. Seeing the disapproval in the man's face, he quickly added, "Sir?"

"Yeah, you were going ninety-five in a seventy zone," he said. "I ran your license plate, and it shows that you have an unpaid ticket."

"Oh, right," Jackson said, his stomach dropping even further as he remembered that ticket that he'd gotten a while ago. He'd actually intended on paying it, he'd just forgotten somehow.

"And your license is expired," Officer Hale added.

"Fuck!" Jackson exclaimed, realizing how much all of these violations would cost him. The police officer's hand smoothly went to his gun, hovering over it in anticipation.

"Sir, try to calm down," Officer Hale said calmly yet authoritatively. "Now, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I will have to bring you in. You've just got too many violations. We'll just hold you over night, unless you can call someone to bail you out. Trust me, you're going to want to just go along to make this easier on yourself."

Jackson bit his lip, nodding. He followed the officer's commands, his face flushing red in the darkness as his hands were cuffed behind him and he was put into the back of the car, like a criminal. Well, he was a criminal, he realized. The hardest part was watching his beautiful Porsche get towed away, destined for an impound lot that would cost him even more money.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

At the station, Jackson was given a phone call so someone could bail him out. He immediately regretted calling his old friend Lydia, who lived in the area. After spending a few minutes yelling at her various children, she finally managed to tell him that she wouldn't have any money until her paycheck came in three days. She promised to call around until she could get the money tonight, but he could tell that she was far too drunk to keep that promise.

The podunk county he drove through to get home from work had a tiny holding cell in the police station, right next to Officer Hale's desk. The two were the only ones in the room, since he'd traded off patrol duty with another officer so he could keep an eye on Jackson. The boy was embarrassed, sitting in the little cage. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep for several hours, since he'd gotten on a schedule, though Officer Hale seemed to be fighting consciousness. More than once, he stood up to get some coffee, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"How are you so awake this late?" the cop finally asked Jackson, breaking the long awkward silence.

"I'm used to it," Jackson replied. "I work weird hours, so I mostly end up sleeping during the day."

"Huh, it must be nice, being on a regular schedule. I don't usually know if I have duty until a few days before, and it always seems like I get alternating days and nights, so I can never figure out a good time to sleep," Officer Hale said.

Jackson nodded, readjusting his seating position so that the bars didn't dig into his back as much. "I'll tell you what, the hardest part is getting laid. I mean, I can never find a guy to hook up with in the middle of the day," Jackson laughed, probably oversharing. He figured commiserating with this cop, who he'd probably never see again, could serve as a good therapy session.

"I know what you mean," the cop said to Jackson's surprise. "It's especially hard when you're gay, because it's tough to know who to flirt with when you don't have time for clubs."

"Yeah," Jackson said, almost timidly, yet happy to have caught the cop off-guard and tired. "It's kinda too bad. It feels like all of the hot clothes I buy and all of the shaving and exercise kind of go to waste."

A devious smile spread across Officer Hale's face as he stood, looking over at the thin boy. "Oh, that reminds me," he exclaimed, taking out a pair of cuffs, "I forgot to do the strip search."

"What?" Jackson squawked, sitting upright and look at the man. He opened his mouth to protest, then looked into his eyes. He questioned whether the man had truly forgotten, or if he was trying to seduce him. Either way, he figured that even if it was an honest procedure, he'd still get to show off a little bit for a hot gay guy.

Complying with the cop's directions, Jackson stood and allowed his hands to be cuffed to the bars of the door, above his head. He shuffled with the door as Officer Hale swung it open so that the pair could stand face to face. With a swift motion, the officer managed to unbutton and slip Jackson's shirt off, uncuffing him just long enough to take it off of his wrists before chaining him back up. Jackson could hardly tell what had happened, yet suddenly his pale abs and stretched biceps were exposed. The man curiously examined the shirt for a moment, smelling where the his pits had been and looking in the pockets and at the buttons, checking for drugs or weapons.

Following protocol, the man took off Jackson's shoes and socks next, examining them with similar interest. After a few moments, he dropped the shoes and socks, moving on to the man's pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped them slowly, letting his hands linger around Jackon's crotch as he disrobed the man. Slipping the black slacks off of his long, pale legs, he checked every pocket and seam, as well as taking a moment to sniff the crotch and where his ass had been. Jackson's face turned red as the man made eye contact while sniffing the crotch of his pants. He knew that the officer was probably taking in the scent of his ball sweat, since he'd had to run down the hot, humid street several times that day to feed his parking meter. That always made him sweat a bit, and he'd noticed before that the smell especially lingered around his crotch. Jackson's face, chest, and arms visibly reddened as he took stock of the situation; he was in his underwear, chained with his hands above his head while the cop took in his lean form, accusation in his eyes as he sniffed the residue of the man's sweaty balls. To make matters worse, Jackson had decided on what was now a very regrettable pair of underwear. The tight teal material of his briefs clung to his butt, rising high to reveal most of his thighs. This particular pair of sports briefs had a pouch installed to push his package forward, so his cock and balls jutted out from his hips, jiggling every time he moved at all. Needless to say, Jackson hoped that this was some kind of foreplay instead of a routine examination, since it would be quite embarrassing to be this revealed to a stranger who did not have any intention of having sex.

Officer Hale then began folding his clothes, putting them all inside of what looked like a large ziplock bag. Putting the bag in a file drawer, he then turned around and made his way back to the cell, pushing the door closed. Jackson, very confused, shuffled forward as the door he was handcuffed to was shut with him attached to it. Thanks to his ball-boosting underwear, his package jiggled very noticeably as he inched forward in his bare feet. Officer Hale then took off his handcuffs. "Alright, you're clean," he said with a smirk. Jackson's brow furrowed with confusion as he turned around and looked at the officer through the bars.

"Well don't I get my clothes back, if I'm 'clean?'" Jackson asked, assuming that this was actually a normal police procedure.

"I'm going to hold them, so I can send them in for testing," Officer Hale said with a smirk as he returned to his desk, continuously eying the nearly-naked inmate. "I smelled something funny on the crotch of your pants. Criminals can hide drugs in the stitches of their clothes, y'know."

"What?" Jackson asked, grabbing the bars roughly in desperation. As he did so, he could feel his junk jiggle again, separated from his body due to the teal briefs. The officer's lusty glance down at his bouncing cock was enough to confirm to Jackson that the man was just playing some weird game of cat and mouse. Jackson paced the little cell, making a point of moving his hips more than usual so that his package bounced around. He noticed Officer Hale's eyes glued to his rotating package and ass.

"Oh, I forgot!" he exclaimed, standing up from his desk. "I didn't finish your strip search."

Jackson looked down at his nearly-naked body, then back up at the cop with an arched eyebrow and a look of feigned confusion. "What more could you take off of me, officer?" he asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

The pale boy followed his arresting officer's commands, coming to stand in front of him. Officer Hale then reached his hands through the bars, eagerly grabbing the waistband of Jackson's briefs and sliding them down his long legs. Jackson stepped out of them and the officer slipped them through the bars, happy to get the last obstacle of his view of the boy out of the way. "Just as I thought," Officer Hale announced, closely looking over the underwear. He gave the crotch pouch a good, long sniff, enjoying the scent of Jackson's sweaty groin. "There's a pouch in this, and it smells even more strongly of those drugs I smelled on your pants. Yup, these are gonna go down to the lab, and we're gonna nail you. Hard."

Jackson smiled, and he noticed the officer looking his body up and down for the first time. Officer Hale drank in his long, pale limbs, adorned with lean, hard muscles. His little patch of lightly color pubes perfectly framed his long, cut cock. The head rested just below his balls, and even from the other side of the bars, Officer Hale could smell the scent of dried sweat on his skin. Officer Hale suddenly felt unsure of what to do with this unbelievably sexy man he had, completely naked and caged. Regaining his composure, the man looked Jackson in the eye. "What are you going to do to me?" Jackson asked, almost defiant. "I don't want to go to jail."

"Alright, I can't find any drugs in here, but I can smell the traces, so we're going to have to do a cavity search," Derek replied. "If I don't find any, then you won't have to worry about jail for now."

Following Officer Hale's commands, Jackson pressed against the bars, opening his mouth. Claiming to be out of gloves, Derek began rooting around in the boy's mouth with his finger. The repetitive in and out motions suggested that he was not truly concerned with finding any drugs. After a few moments of examining his teeth, he told Jackson to turn around, spread his legs, bend over, and spread his cheeks. Jackson did each step slowly, giving the man time to appreciate his smooth, pale ass cheeks. Derek noticed the dimples at the bottom of his back as he bent, slowly moving downward as his ass stretched. He pulled his cheeks apart as he arched his back to make his ass pop. His hole was hairless and tight, clearly he hadn't had much sex in a while, despite his meticulous grooming. Reaching as far forward as he could, Officer Hale hooked his fingers back into Jackson's mouth, getting them lubed up with the man's saliva. He eagerly pushed one finger against his hole. His early observation was right; it really was quite tight. Jackson moaned a bit as the finger slowly went into his body. It had been a while since his hole had gotten much attention. Wasting no time, Officer Hale put a second finger in, pushing them in and out a few times before he slipped in a third. Jackson was all too happy for the additional girth, moaning even harder.

After only a few minutes of fingering, the phone began ringing. Both were silent and still for a moment, considering what to do. Thinking quickly, Officer Hale took his nightstick out of his belt. Giving it a few good licks, he slipped it in just as his fingers were leaving the boy's hole. Shoving the billyclub further inside of the boy, he adjusted it until he heard the boy gasp, leaving it pushing against his prostate while he went to answer the phone. Jackson curled his bare toes against the hard slab beneath his feet, gritting his teeth as he stood, bent over and naked with a nightstick pleasuring him. It was a bit embarrassing, when he thought of the distinct possibility that anyone could walk through the door of the public building at any moment. He wouldn't even have any clothes to cover up with.

"Sorry," Derek said, giving the boy's ass a slap through the bars as he returned. He drummed his fingers teasingly along the nightstick, making it vibrate against Jackson's prostate. "Where were we?"  
"Cavity exam?" Jackson answered, breathless.

"Oh, right," Derek said, giving the nightstick a hard shove further into the boy. Jackson grunted, and he mercifully pulled the club out of his anus. Getting onto his knees, Officer Hale replaced the stick with his tongue, immediately darting into his hole. Just as the pleasure was enough to get Jackson to moan, Derek pulled out. Standing up, Jackson arched his neck and watched as the officer dropped trou, revealing the massive hard on tenting the pouch of his black jockstrap. Derek stepped out of his pants and shoes, leaving only his black socks, underwear and blue uniform shirt on as he rubbed his cock through the pouch. Reaching once again through the bars, Derek grabbed Jackson's hair, pulling him up against the bars. He rubbed his covered hard on against the boy's bare cheeks as he flicked his tongue along his ear. Jackson winced at the forceful pain in his scalp, pressed uncomfortably against the bars. "You want the long arm of the law, inmate?"

Jackson felt the man's free hand grope his pec, two of his fingers pinching his nipple. "Oh, yes, I do," Jackson moaned, arching his ass into the hard dick grinding against it.

"Are you sure?" Officer Hale asked, releasing his grip on the man's nipple and sliding his hand down his lean, pale abs to rest on his hard, cut cock. He gave the member a good hard smack, making Jackson give an exasperated-sounding sigh of pain as his aching hard on bounced around in front of him. Derek continued to painfully smack the warm cock around as he spoke. "The penile system can be very rough on offenders like you. I don't know if you've heard what happens to pretty boys in prison."

Jackson gritted his teeth against the pain in his bouncing cock, happy when Derek ceased. The man then moved on to reach between the pale boy's legs, gaining a tight squeeze around his balls. "Yes, yes, I need to pay for my crimes," Jackson said, breathless.

Releasing all of his grips on the boy, Derek took a few steps back. Jackson could only feel the cold bars against his back now, and he turned around to watch his officer. The man turned around for a moment, moving his pants and shoes out of his way. As he did so, Jackson got a good glimpse at his pale, tight ass, covered in dark hairs and framed by the jock. He watched as the man dropped the underwear to the ground, kicking it over to where his pants and shoes were. Jackson waited with bated breath as the man turned around, almost in slow motion, revealing his seven hard, uncut inches of hard cock. It bobbed up and down as he moved, pointing upward out of a thick, untrimmed mass of black pubic hair.

Without being told, Jackson assumed the same position as earlier, pressing his hole between the bars. Derek chuckled as he walked over, aiming a wad of spit at the hole. Both parties grieving their hiatuses from sex, since it meant that neither thought to carry any lubricants anymore, Derek slowly ground his cock into the spit-covered hole. Derek and Jackson both held their breath as he pushed his dick into the hole, slowly and carefully.

Their hips moved together as he began pumping in and out. Jackson gripped his knees tighter as he fought the urge to moan. Arching his back in pleasure, he squeezed his hole tighter around the thick shaft, feeling the coarse hairs scratch against his cheeks before retreating. Derek grabbed his hips through the bars, keeping them still as he tried to find the boy's prostate. He could feel him shiver and see his toes curl when Derek found the spot.

Derek stopped suddenly, freezing half way through a thrust. Jackson squeezed his hole, urging him on, until he heard what had given the man pause. The walkie-talkie on his belt, which was hanging on the back of his chair, was squawking. Though Jackson couldn't discern anything from it besides a gargle of static, Derek quickly pulled his cock out, his wet hard on bouncing and dripping as he moved into action. As quickly as humanly possible, he unlocked the cell, grabbing Jackson by the neck and pulling him out and shoving him under the desk, kicking his discarded clothes and Jackson's smelly briefs under there with him. He managed to sit in the seat and pull forward enough to cover himself just as Jackson heard the door open.

The pale boy was glad for the big, thick desk as his heart returned to its normal beating pattern. His back was pressed against the inside of the front of the desk, with Derek's knees on either side of him. The boy couldn't move much in the confined space, so he couldn't rectify the teal briefs which had landed on his face in the flurry, filling his nostrils with the smell of his own ball sweat, as well as the heady pheromone scent from the wet dick pulsating in front of him. Getting a little revenge for the unfortunate underwear situation, Jackson started licking the man's wet dick, hearing his voice go an octave higher as he discussed paperwork with the man who had come in. In the limited space, the only revenge Derek could get without giving his predicament away was to flick Jackson's nuts with his big toe. The mild pain only turned the boy on, making him suck the cock with more fervor.

Finally, Derek pushed back from the desk, yanking his cock out of the boy's mouth. He looked down at the space previously occupied by his legs, his face red with anger. "Do you know what would've happened if-" Derek started, but his face froze for a moment before cracking with laughter. He looked down at Jackson, who was crammed into the space, his legs spread wide and acrobatically to fit into the tiny cubby, so that his hole was winking up at the man. He still had the underwear covering half of his face, and a little trickle of saliva hung from his mouth from the cock being pulled out of it. Jackson laughed too, taking the underwear off and wiping his mouth before crawling out.

"What was that about?" Jackson asked, wondering the specifics of the conversation happening over his head.

"Oh, he just had to drop some paperwork off that he'd forgotten earlier," Derek replied, his face turning red now from embarrassment.

"Do you think he...noticed?" Jackson asked.

"No, but you didn't make that easy," Derek said, stepping closer to the naked boy, his hard on now poking his hips, "with those lips of yours."

Derek led his perp back into the cell by his hand. Jackson almost felt like the gesture was romantic for a moment, until the officer produced a pair of handcuffs from his shirt pocket and handcuffed the boy to a pipe behind the toilet. He positioned Jackson so that he had one naked foot propped up against the sink, which was next to the toilet. He stood for a moment, his hole open to the air as his legs were spread widely and awkwardly, his arms straining against the toilet as his face pressed against the cold porcelain of the tank. Looking between his legs, Jackson saw Derek slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a massive chest and hard abs, covered with swirls of flat black hair. If he'd had a mustache, he would have looked just like a cop from a porno.

Jackson returned his face to the toilet as he felt the man's tongue press against his hole, teasing the sensitive nerves. The slippery organ found its way inside of him once again, and the man pressed his lips to the sphincter, making sure to leave lots of spit behind as he pulled his head out of the boy's ass. Before Jackson could whine, his hole was filled with the man's thick, uncut meat. Derek grunted as he pushed his dick into the tight hole, feeling the warm, inviting space within. Jackson braced himself, his legs stiff and awkward as one was splayed across the sink, spreading his cheeks. Derek grabbed his hips, getting a rhythm to his thrusts as he felt around for the prostate. Jackson could hardly believe how hard he was without being able to touch himself; Derek was hitting his prostate with almost every thrust. His breathing was ragged and labored as he focused on the pleasure. The sound of Officer Hale's balls swinging and hitting Jackson's taint filled the little room, interrupted only by the occasional moan or grunt.

Finally, Derek couldn't take any more. He'd been hard for quite a while at this point, his wad building up since he first started stripping the cute boy he'd arrested, now, he moaned loudly, barely managing to inform Jackson that he was going to cum. He pulled out, giving his thick cock a few good jerks as four loads of ropey jizz flew out of him and onto Jackson's back. The musky smell hit Jackson, making him wish more than anything that he could use his hands, either to touch himself or touch Derek, maybe both. Exhausted, Officer Hale flopped over, lowering Jackson's leg from the sink as he rested his chest on the boy's jizz-covered back. They stood together for a few minutes, his thick arms wrapped around the boy's muscular, pale chest. Jackson turned his head around, managing to kiss the man on the mouth.

Once his breathing returned to normal, Officer Hale stood, and Jackson prepared himself to be freed from his handcuffs and allowed to stand. Instead, the man got on his knees, tasting Jackson's hard cock. He deep-throated it in one swift motion, pressing his nose up to Jackson's balls. He could now smell why even the boy's pants had smelled strongly of musky sweat and masculine pheromones. All of the activity had caused him to work up a bit of a sweat, and the manly smell immediately filled Derek's nose, intoxicating him.

He gave the boy a blowjob, letting the sweaty balls smack him in the face as he milked the boy with his mouth like a swordswallower. Jackson only last a short while, feeling stubble press against his taint as Derek pulled the cumming cock further into his throat. The hot load went deep into Derek's throat, sliding inside of him.

Finally, Derek fished the key out of his shirt pocket and unchained the boy. Jackson stood up, feeling the drying cum cooling on his back as he stretched. Officer Hale strode over to the pile of clothes beneath his desk, slipping on his jock before buttoning up his shirt. As he stretched down again to get his pants, Jackson smirked at the view he got of the man's hairy hole. After putting his pants and shoes on, he picked up the teal briefs, sniffing them deeply one last time before reluctantly handing them to Jackson.

"You can keep them," the pale boy said with a smile, "as a souvenir. You know, if you work a long shift and get lonely again."

Derek's face brightened visibly. "Thanks!" he said, stuffing them in his pocket. He walked over to his desk, picking up a thin stack of papers. He slid them down the front of his shirt, rubbing them against his chest a few times. "Hmm, your arrest report seems to be covered in some semen-like substance. I really should dispose of them. You know, in case it's poisonous."  
"Trust me, it is," Jackson replied with a smirk. "Just don't forget to put my number in your phone first."

Derek's face brightened even more as he set the cum-covered papers on his desk. "Well, it's morning, so you're free to go, I guess," Derek said, looking wistful.

"Don't you get off in like half an hour?" Jackson asked, to which Derek nodded. "I don't really have a ride, so I guess I could wait around, and maybe we could get breakfast together?"  
"I'd like that," Derek said, smiling.

"Oh, duh, first I'll need my clothes back," Jackson said, reaching for the filing cabinet Derek had put them in.

The police officer jumped between the boy and the cabinet. "Woah, I said those need to go in for testing," Officer Hale replied. "You'll get them back in a few days. You can have your wallet and watch back, but the rest will have to wait."

"But I don't have any other clothes to leave in!" Jackson protested, already self-consciously covering his groin.

"Don't worry," Officer Hale replied, "I know a good cop you can bribe if you get arrested for public indecency."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson/Danny

Jackson shifted his stiff knees, trying to readjust himself to a more comfortable version of his awkward position. He was currently wedged between the back of his chair and the edge of the desk, with his feet on either side of the computer in front of him and his pelvis slid forward so he could fit the vibrator in easily. His cock was smearing precum all over his abs and bellybutton as he jerked it with one hand, watching the naked bodies on the screen move and pulse. He moaned slightly as he wiggled the vibrator, making it hit his prostate. At the same time, the skinny boy on his video screen was making the bigger, more muscular man scream in ecstasy using a dildo.

He watched his long toes curl in response to the stimulation of his prostate. Normally, he didn't like to jerk off in the Hale house, even after the pack manage to spruce it up enough to be inhabitable. But since the Alpha pack came around and Gerard was still on the loose, Derek had the whole pack spending almost every free moment in their den. To make matters worse, there was a distinct scent of sex in the air, and it was driving Jackson crazy. He wasn't sure who was having sex where, but his new wolf senses could pick up even the faintest smells now. Since realizing that Danny was his mate and turning him so that he could join the pack, the two had been going at each other practically nonstop. He couldn't wait for the boy to get back from work, though. He pulled and pushed at the vibrator as he jerked his cock, eyes fixated on the bright little computer screen in the dark room.

Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Jackson whipped his head to the right, looking at the door. Danny was standing there, disbelief in his eyes. He looked tired, wearing a blue button-up shirt with a gray vest and gray slacks. His gym bag fell from his fingers as he continued to stare at his boyfriend, naked with his legs splayed open in front of a computer.

"Really?" Danny said in an aggravated tone, finally breaking the silence. "Seriously? I get home from a hard day at work to find this? This is what my mate does while I'm out working all day?"

Jackson opened his mouth, but before he could even respond, Danny rolled the office chair backwards, setting Jackson off balance. Taking advantage of his confusion and dizzy state, Danny tossed the boy onto the bed, vibrator still humming between his ass cheeks. Than tanned, muscular boy looked down at Jackson as he dropped trou, wrestling his pants and light green briefs around his shoes. Wrenching the leaner boy's mouth open, he shoved his underwear in the boy's mouth. They were wet before they hit Jackson's tongue.

"Oh, sorry," Danny said with mocking apology, "I forgot my jock, so I've been working out in those for the past hour." Jackson could indeed taste and smell the salty sweat dampening the material.

Danny crawled on the bed, now clad only in his shirt, vest, shoes, and socks, so his hairy, tanned legs were exposed. Jackson, naked from head to toe and gagged, looked up at the man with doughy eyes, his lean, pale body exposed and trapped beneath the firm muscles of the man on top of him. Danny's body heat added to the warmth of the room.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't be able to smell you from outside of the house?" Danny asked, his face only centimeters away from Jackson's. His dark eyes flashed yellow for a moment, and his breath hitched. The sweet smell of his skin intermingled with the musk of the dirty underwear in his mouth, his own pheromones, and Danny's hair products. "You know Scott and Isaac were leaving just as I was coming in. There was no way they didn't notice."

Jackson blushed, thinking about the two of them leaving as they smelled his precum and naked skin. Danny smiled. "Anyone walking by could smell your pheromones. You want it bad, don't you?" Danny asked, pointing out how unusually horny Jackson was. The naked boy nodded, unable to deny the fact while his dick was pulsating against Danny's shirt, encouraged by the vibrator still wedged against his prostate. "They're gonna be able to smell it all over this room, even after you're gone. You really couldn't just wait til Derek said you could go home?"

The lean, pale boy hadn't considered the fact that his smell may linger in the house. He blushed even deeper. Somehow, at the moment, with his hard on pressed against Danny's hard abs and the boy's tanned cock nudging against his thighs, it didn't really seem to matter who would be able to smell what. Jackson slid his hands between his legs, trying to remove the vibrator so that he could get some relief from the relentless pleasure. Danny grabbed his wrist and removed his hand, pushing the vibrator in deeper with his knee.

Jackson bit down on his mate's underwear as the tanned, muscular form on top of him readjusted himself so that he was sitting on Jackson's chest, his knees in the boy's armpits. He ripped the wet briefs from the boy's plump lips, setting them right beside Jackson's face so that he could continue to smell them. Grabbing his hard-on by the base, Danny wagged his uncut six inches in front of Jackson's willing mouth, teasing the boy. Jackson's tongue snaked out to his lips, eager to taste the precum on Danny's head. He arched his neck, pressing his lips around the fat tip while his tongue shot under his foreskin, licking a circle around the sensitive cock head underneath his foreskin.

Pleasantly surprised, Danny's mouth drooped open at the new and pleasurable sensation. Jackson's tongue continued to swirl in circles, licking up all of the precum. Danny's head was extra sensative, his uncut dick head having been spared years of rubbing against the inside of his jeans, and the sensation of Jackson's warm tongue made him curl his toes and arch his back, lifting his hips up slightly to meet the inviting mouth. He could feel Jackson's lips pull into a smile as he flicked his tongue over all of the sensitive parts of Danny's head, making the boy grip the sheets beneath his hands.

Finally, he slipped his tongue from beneath the foreskin and slid his lips down the length of the shaft. Danny arched his back, his tanned abs flexing as he greeted the warm embrace of Jackson's pouty lips. Jackson rested his hands on Danny's hairy thighs, his long fingers exploring the hot, tanned skin. Rising onto his knees, Danny grabbed the boy's pale wrists and pushed them down onto the pillow on either side of his head. He was now bent over Jackson's head, holding down his wrists while his thick ass cheeks bobbed up and down, pushing his cock in and out of the boy's mouth. Danny felt the boy moaning against his dick, sending vibrations up the length of his shaft. Gripping his wrists tighter, he gave the boy a good, hard slams with his pelvis. His balls flopped audibly on the boy's chin as he rammed his meat into Jackson's mouth, making him choke and gag. Danny slowly pushed his pelvis forward, feeling his dick slide into the boy's mouth inch by inch, until he was lying with Jackson's nose buried in his thick bush of pubes.

Pulling out all at once, Danny released the boy's wrists and rolled off the bed. Almost as an afterthought, he turned around and stuffed the sweaty black briefs back into the boy's mouth. He walked around to the end of the bed and gripped Jackson's ankles, his saliva-covered hard on bouncing in front of him as he walked. With a strong yank, Danny pulled Jackson's ass to the edge of the bed, his pale legs splayed high in the air. He pulled the vibrator out of the boy's hole, holding it up as it buzzed as if to shame the boy for getting off without him. Danny gave it a sniff. "It smells like my cock after I fuck you," he said with a smirk, watching Jackson blush. He tossed it on the bed next to the boy, where he could feel it buzzing. Danny grabbed the base of his wet dick. "It's no replacement for this, is it cockslut?"

In a few quick motions, Danny grabbed Jackson's ankles, wrenched them as far apart as he could, and shoved his cock into the boy's unexpecting hole. Biting down on the salty underwear, Jackson screamed at the sudden pain of the unlubricated cock being shoved inside of him so quickly. Danny smiled at the boy's reaction. He held his dick inside of his mate as he slowly unbuttoned and removed his vest and unbuttoned his shirt, making Jackson hold his legs up as he recovered from the pain of his ass being pounded.

With his abs and chest now exposed, Danny started pumping his mate's ass, setting the boy's ankles on his broad shoulders. Jackson moaned as Danny found his prostate, his getting heavy. Danny aimed the round head of his cock at the spot that made his mate's breath hitch, trying to hit it with every thrust. Jackson's sphincter contracted around Danny's dick every time he managed to hit his mate's pleasure center. His blue shirt contrasted with his bronze skin as it waved in the his vigorous thrusting. The sheets clung to Jackson's pale skin as sweat poured from him. Danny realized that if anybody came home, their moans and labored breathing, paired with the loud slapping of his low hanging ballsack against Jackson's ass, would be incredibly obvious to the wolves who frequented the house. He redoubled his efforts, arching his back as he slammed his dick into Jackson.

Jackson's hand went to his cock, unable to deny the aching organ any longer. Danny grabbed the vibrator from the bed, spreading Jackson's legs further apart as he pressed the buzzing dildo against his filled hole. Jackson moaned, his strokes picking up pace. Slowly, Danny pushed the toy against his hole harder and harder, finally managing to slip the head in beneath his cock. Then, he slid it in and out with his dick, fucking him with both his own meat and the vibrator at once. Jackson moaned with pleasure, his prostate getting hit with either the dick or the vibrator with every motion of Danny's hips.

The muscular, tanned boy smiled. He could hear the familiar changes in Jackson's breathing, and saw the desperate way his hand moved over his cock. Gripping Jackson's thighs tighter, he pulled almost all the way out, stopping just at the tip, and pushed his pelvis forward with all of his might. His dick and the vibrator slammed into his ass with an audible clap, pushing so far that his pubes ticked Jackson's balls and the toy almost disappeared. Jackson screamed, almost a wolf howl, as his hot load spat out of his cock. A thick ropey shot flew above his head, landing on the wall, and several more landed on the bed and on his chest. Danny's head swam in the smell of his mate's pheromones.

With a devious grin, Danny pulled the vibrator out of Jackson's ass as the boy's breathing returned to normal. He rolled the vibrating toy in a pool of jizz collected around Jackson's bellybutton. Jackson watched with interest as he smeared cum all over his taut, white stomach before sliding his arms around Jackson's torso, hugging him close. He heaved the boy up, allowing his legs to drop down so he could wrap them around Danny's chest. They stood for a moment, their chests pressed against one another as Danny pumped into Jackson's ass. With a dexterity that Danny wouldn't have possessed before getting the Bite, he managed to pull a nearby chair over and sit down, positioning the vibrator on the chair with one hand while holding Jackson up with the other. Now, he was sitting with the cum-covered toy vibrating against his prostate and Jackson hugging him in a cowboy position.

Jackson's cum and their sweat made the boy's lean, pale skin slide against the bulging tan pecs as Danny lifted Jackson up and down on his cock. Jackson's nails scratched pattern's in Danny's back under his shirt as he kissed his mate's neck. The pale boy could feel Danny getting faster and faster, gripping him tighter as he pumped the boy on his dick. His eyes closed and his lips parted as a low whine came from deep within his throat. Suddenly, Jackson could feel his mate releasing inside of him, shooting several hot loads into his guts. He slowed and stopped, taking a moment to catch his breath. Jackson smiled and ran a finger along Danny's strong jawline.

Danny picked him up and carried him over to the bed, not pulling out until he threw the boy down on the mattress. He flopped down beside the boy he loved, a contented smile on his lips. Danny took the cum-covered vibrator out of his hole and Jackson pulled the sweaty briefs from lips. Danny smiled, having forgotten about them as their intimacy escalated.

"You know," Jackson said, his voice a little hoarse from all the screaming and the underwear in his mouth, "you were right. Everyone is gonna be able to smell us all over this room now."

Danny looked around, taking in the sweat soaked sheets, the cum on the wall and mattress, and their scent on the chair, as well as Jackson's scent on the desk chair. He knew that the smell would be obvious for a few days even without werewolf powers. He shrugged. "Sucks to be Derek," he said, smiling as he looked over into Jackson's deep eyes.

"What if he's mad?" Jackson said with mock concern.

"We'll invite him to join next time," Danny said lightly, a smile still playing at his lips.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a second, staring at the ceiling. Then Jackson lit up. "Hey Danny?"

"Hm?" Danny turned his head to look at his mate.

"Next time," Jackson said, an almost threateningly devilish quality in his voice, "I get to be the jealous mate and you can be the lazy cockjerker."


End file.
